


Phoenix Rising

by Peanutbuttertoast



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, F/M, Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Pureblood Hermione Granger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-09
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-01-26 00:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 96
Words: 250,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21364951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peanutbuttertoast/pseuds/Peanutbuttertoast
Summary: During Fifth Year, Hermione's magic becomes unstable and Harry discovers the Dark Lords secret. As Hermione learns hidden truths of her family's past, secrets abound all around. Hermione must deal with her past, present and future all the while trying to adjust to her new powers and the reality of finding her perfect mate. A mate chosen by Prophecy.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Adrian Pucey, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 1114
Kudos: 1649





	1. The Department of Mysteries

**Author's Note:**

> Characters belong to J.K. Rowling, WB, Marvel, Stan Lee and all respective creative entities that aren’t me.....  
This is a continuation of my one-shot...and is an amalgamation of two movie scenes come together. The story progressed from this idea...hope you like it!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During Fifth Year, things are changing at Hogwarts and the rest of the Wizarding World after the Dark Lord's return. Harry is desperate to try and find a way to defeat Voldemort, while Hermione must figure out what is wrong with her magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All characters belong to their respective creators (JK Rowling, Stan Lee and entitled entities that aren't me). I combined two of my favorite movie scenes for the beginning of this story, hope you enjoy the ride!

Fifth year at Hogwarts started with increased tensions from everyone. Harry nearly getting expelled over the summer was just the beginning and now nearly everyone at Hogwarts was sneering at the Boy Who Lived because he'd claimed Voldemort had returned. 

Except for his closest friends, no one believed him.

The new Defense Against The Dark Arts Professor was some Ministry hag sent by Minister Cornelius Fudge to spy on Dumbledore. The sodding fool thought the Headmaster was after his job, which was utterly laughable.

Harry was having visions inside his head, and they only got worse as the school year progressed, but it was nothing compared to what his best friend was going through.

Hermione Granger was having problems of her own...which eventually caused her to go to Harry with her concerns. Her magic had been all over the place lately, and it seemed as if her spells were increasing with power as the year progressed.

It was very disconcerting and eventually Harry and Hermione went to Professor McGonagall and shared their concerns.

The Deputy Headmistress brought her findings directly to Dumbledore, and while the Headmaster was reluctant to believe what Madam Pomfrey's scans were detecting with Miss Granger's magic, there was no way to independently verify if his theory about her magic evolving was correct. Harry in turn, was having odd dreams about strange artifacts--a necklace with a large S, a diamond tiara looking thing, a cup that had a Badger on it, and a ring with a black stone with runic markings on it. He told his dreams to Hermione, who in turn shared her concerns with the Deputy Headmistress. As Harry's dreams progressed, it was Hermione who made the connection that Harry's mind was somehow linked to the Dark Lord's--and at the beginning of Christmas break, in the library at Grimmauld Place?

Hermione Granger discovered how the Dark Lord Voldemort had managed to cheat death.

_Horcruxes_...

...sitting with Harry and Sirius in the library...Hermione shared her discovery.

Sirius called an Order meeting and within a few hours, the group had discovered that one of the horcruxes was within the walls of Grimmauld Place, hidden away by Kreacher. The elf shared the story of how his Master Regulus had allowed the Dark Lord to take Kreacher to a dark cave and how Kreacher had taken his Master back to that very same cave...how Master Regulus sacrificed himself to retrieve the locket and how he'd bade his loyal house elf to destroy the _filthy evil locket._

With tangible proof, Hermione was able to discern that the other horcruxes were most likely items that belonged to the other Hogwarts Founders--since Tom Riddle would see himself as heir apparent to Salazar Slytherin, he would likely covet other items from the Founders that held significance. The Lost Diadem Of Rowena Ravenclaw, the Cup Of Helga Hufflepuff, Tom Riddle's family ring that Dumbledore remembered him wearing from sixth year on. 

One by one the group profiled and plotted and by Christmas, with Kreacher's help, they had located and retrieved all the horcruxes save one..._Nagini._

Harry had belatedly realized that during the dream he'd had over the summer, when Voldemort had killed the Muggle caretaker at old Riddle Manor, he'd most likely made his snake into a horcrux...but the shock came when Hermione concluded that Harry _himself_ was most likely a horcrux. This was due to his ability to speak with snakes and the extraordinary power he held for being so young. When Dumbledore mentioned the Prophecy that Trelawny had given before Harry was born, Hermione guessed correctly that Voldemort would likely send one of his followers...or perhaps his familiar, to retrieve the orb.

So a trap was set for the end of Christmas break, and with the Sword of Gryffindor concealed within his robes, Arthur Weasley decided to take charge guarding the Prophecy.

Sure enough, late one night Nagini slithered into the Department of Mysteries and attacked Mr. Weasley, but he quickly took the sword and slashed it through the air, slicing off the snake's head.

Dark magic swirled from the snake as it disintegrated, and soon the Aurors were there to take Arthur to St. Mungo's, where he was treated for his injuries.

A few weeks after break resumed, there was a mass breakout of prisoners that were locked away in Azkaban. Bellatrix Lestrange, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, Antonin Dolohov, Corban Yaxley...and several others, were set free. The Daily Prophet, along with Minister Fudge--blamed the mass breakout on Sirius Black--but most people knew better.

It seemed that in securing his loyal followers release, the only thing Voldemort succeeded in doing was confirm that he well and was truly back.

Hermione's magic was growing stronger by the day, and over Easter she was having a hard time regulating her powers. She was becoming increasingly frustrated and concerned for her well being, so Harry went to Dumbledore and begged him to help his best friend.

Harry, along with Ron and Hermione had started a clandestine defense club in their spare time...teaching anyone who wanted to join how to properly defend themselves against Dark magic. When they were caught by Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad a few weeks after Easter, Dumbledore had to vanish from Hogwarts before Minister Fudge could have him arrested.

During detention, Umbridge had all the members of the DA, write lines with a blood quill, the Dark Magic scarring their hands painfully. In the secrecy of Gryffindor tower, Hermione was able to heal the red scars with her magic and Harry was increasingly astonished by his best friend's powers. 

He promised her that together, they'd figure out what was going on.

OWLS came soon after, and every fifth year student was studying voraciously for their exams. On the day of the final Defense exam, loud explosions were heard throughout the hallways of Hogwarts, and in a flash of sparks and fire, George and Fred Weasley lit up the Great Hall with an impressive demonstration of fireworks, courtesy of their new joke shop, _Weasley Wizarding Wheezes._ Outside cheering his friends on, Harry was taken down by a strong vision of Voldemort holding Sirius hostage in the Hall of Prophecy...the vision of Sirius being tortured scared Harry into action.

Trying to access Umbridge's Floo to contact his godfather, Harry realized too late that he'd walked into a trap. Umbridge and the Inquisitorial Squad captured them, and it was only by some sly cunning from one singular brilliant witch and a coded message to Professor Snape, that they'd managed to escape Hogwarts, and fly to London on the back of Thestrals.

Once they'd reached the Ministry; Harry with Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Neville and Luna Lovegood managed to find their way to the Hall of Prophecy. When Harry reached the aisle where his Prophecy was located, he looked for Sirius, but his godfather was no where to be found.

Suddenly, the six students saw shadows converging on them, men with cloaks and silver masks had surrounded them.

Grabbing the Prophecy off the shelf Harry moved quickly to his friends.

Harry moved to the forefront and spoke to the lead masked man. "Where's Sirius?"

"You know, you really should learn to tell the difference between dreams and..._reality._" Lucius Malfoy waved his wand and his Death Eater mask disappeared, revealing his face. "You saw only what the Dark Lord wanted you to see. Now hand me the Prophecy."

"You do anything to us, I'll break it." Harry stated firmly.

Behind Lucius Malfoy, a cackling laugh reverberated through the Hall.

"He knows how to play...itty, bitty, baby.._.Potter."_ Bellatrix Lestrange snarled at the Boy Who Lived.

Slowly Neville moved forward.

"Bellatrix Lestrange..." Neville said emotionally.

"Neville Longbottom is it? How's mum and dad?" Bellatrix taunted while Lucius just rolled his eyes.

"Better now that they're to be avenged." Neville lifted his wand and pointed it directly at Bellatrix, causing the witch in question to instantly raise her wand in response.

"Let's everybody just calm down, shall we? All we want is the Prophecy." Lucius said smoothly, desperately trying to diffuse the situation.

"Why did Voldemort need me to come and get this?" Harry sneered.

"You dare speak his name?" Bellatrix yelled enraged._ "You filthy half-blood!"_

Lucius held Bellatrix back. "It's alright, he's just a _curious lad_, aren't you?" Lucius admonished. "Prophecies can only be retrieved by those about whom they are made. Which is lucky for you, really." The six friends converged into a circle, as the Death Eaters moved in closer to their position. "Haven't you always wondered what was the reason for the connection between you and the Dark Lord, hmmm? Why he was unable to kill you when you were just...an infant? Don't you want to know the secret..._of your scar?_ All the answers are there, Potter...in your hand. All you have to do is give it to me, and I can show you everything."

"I've waited fourteen years." Harry started.

"I know." Lucius offered with feigned sympathy.

"I guess I can wait a little longer...now! _Stupefy!"_ Harry yelled as his friends all yelled out stupefy, hitting their targets.

The six friends ran through the Hall of Prophecy away from the Death Eaters, but they got separated. Hermione was pinned down by Dolohov, who had her cornered...before he could get his spell off, Hermione silenced him but she couldn't stop the streak of purple flame as it headed her way and hit her in the chest. She squeaked an _"oh"_ before she fell to the floor in pain, Dolohov leaving her for dead.

Elsewhere in the Department of Mysteries, Harry found his way to the death chamber and was stopped by Lucius Malfoy and his cohorts. Lucius held out his hand and snarled, "Give me the Prophecy now...or watch your friends..._die."_

Harry looked around and saw Neville being held by Bellatrix and Ginny, bleeding and being gripped tightly by Rookwood. Ron was on the ground and Luna was lying next to him, with one of the Lestrange brothers pointing a wand directly at her and sneering.

Harry held out his hand and placed the Prophecy in the outstretched hand of Lucius Malfoy, who gripped onto it in triumph. Suddenly a flash of light found Sirius Black standing behind Malfoy...

"Get away from my godson."

Sirius reeled back and punched Lucius in the face, knocking the blonde man down and shattering the Prophecy for good measure as it fell out of Malfoy's hand and broke on the floor.

Soon, more bright lights filtered into the room as Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Alastor Moody and Kingsley Shacklebolt entered the Death Chamber and the battle broke out in full. Luna and Ginny taking cover with Neville and Ron, as they watched Sirius grab Harry and crouch down behind the stone wall guarding the veil.

"Now listen to me, I want you to take the others and get out of here." Sirius instructed Harry.

"What? No! I'm staying with you."

"You've done beautifully, now let me take it from here."

As Sirius finished his comment, Lucius appeared with Dolohov directly behind him. Harry and Sirius dueled the two Death Eaters and Sirius managed to defeat Dolohov while Harry shouted out _expelliarmus,_ disarming Lucius.

"Well done, James." Sirius bellowed as he knocked out Malfoy quickly, not watching as Bellatrix caught him unaware as she yelled out _"Avada Kedavra."_

Harry watched in horror, as Sirius fell through the veil, and he screamed in rage as Remus tried to hold him back, but Harry finally managed to pull away and raced out of the Death Chamber after Bellatrix. When he caught up with her, he yelled out _Crucio_ and watched as the mad witch fell to the ground crying out in pain. Harry reached her and pointed his wand at Bellatrix, but soon the Dark Lord whispered in Harry's head, taunting Harry, as Bellatrix whimpered in fear.

"You've got to _mean it_, Harry. She killed him, she deserves it. You know the spell, Harry."

Suddenly Voldemort appeared next to Harry and Bellatrix started to cackle in glee. Harry, shaking his head clear, moved to disarm the Dark Lord, but Voldemort waved his hand and Harry's wand fell to the ground.

"So _weak_..."

At that moment, Dumbledore appeared out of the floo in a swirl of green flames. "It was foolish for you to come here tonight, Tom. The Aurors are on their way."

"By which time I shall be gone, and you...shall be _dead."_

Both Voldemort and Dumbledore flashed their wands in a swirling pattern causing both Harry and Bellatrix to be pushed violently out of the path of their duel. Sparks erupted and magic crackled like energy into the air, leaving both Bellatrix and Harry stunned, watching the duel in awe. Both wizards were evenly matched and it seemed as if neither one was able to get the upper hand, until Voldemort vanished in a cloud of dust. Soon after, Harry started to flinch in pain and writhe on the ground, causing Bellatrix to once again, cackle in glee.

The fellow Order members come out of the Death Chamber and into the Ministry's Atrium with the Death Eaters in tow, magically bound and silenced. The floo's started to come to life as the Minister of Magic and several Aurors entered the atrium, astonished at the scene. Bellatrix was quickly bound and silenced as all present watched the boy who lived writhe on the floor...not understanding what was happening.

Dumbledore knelt next to Harry and whispered words of comfort, while Harry struggled with the Dark Lord, who had invaded his body and mind.

"It's over, Harry, you're finished, _you're mine now."_ Voldemort taunted.

Harry struggling, said aloud on a gasp. "You...will never win."

"And why is that?"

"Because you're alone...and I...am..._not."_

As soon as Harry finished those words, a portal opened in the atrium to the astonishment of all who were there.

More astonishing was whom exactly was powerful enough to break through the Ministry wards like butter. Hermione walked through the portal, eyes glowing like lightening and her aura radiating a blinding power that was felt by all who were standing there. Dolohov squirmed against his bonds, but Remus grabbed onto the Russian tightly and snarled.

As soon as Hermione cleared the portal, she stood there...dressed in black dragonhide that had been magically conjured to cover her. Inside Harry's mind, Hermione appeared and stared down Voldemort.

"Let...go...unleash your power Mi...no fear." Whispered Harry, both in his mind and in the atrium.

Hermione gazed towards Dumbledore, then took in the startled looks of the witches and wizards before her and breathed out a heavy sigh. Moving her hands out, her magic glowed and encased both herself, Harry and Dumbledore as everyone gasped in astonishment at the display of pure power. Once the barrier was placed...Hermione's eyes glowed white and she levitated above her friend...and as her power swelled, additional smaller portals opened in the air between herself and Harry...showing four items floating in the ether. A locket, a cup, a tiara and a ring.

Harry looked up and flinched in pain trying to hold off Voldemort and screamed loudly... "Unleash your power! Let go Mi! **_Mi let go!"_**

Hermione Granger, sixteen-year-old Gryffindor witch, pulled her arms outward from her body with a high-pitched scream...a Phoenix cry and her aura exploded outward into raw elemental flames, the force of which...even with the barrier, could be felt within the entire atrium. The pressure and power was tangible, and those present couldn't take their eyes away from the display of raw, elemental magic.

Inside Harry's mind, Voldemort screamed at the force of the witch's magic as Harry's body arched off the ground...his back bowed at an impossible angle...then suddenly, Voldemort was thrust from Harry's body and his body pulled into the air...his rage palpable as he screamed in horror, watching his remaining horcruxes being destroyed to ash by the elemental power of the young witch.

Harry's body slumped, horcrux destroyed, and Dumbledore encased them into a protective bubble...shielding them both from the pressurized heat emanating within the magical enclosure.

Voldemort, enraged and vengeful, started firing off hexes and curses, one more powerful than the next at the young witch, but her aura could not be breached. In a display of his own heady power, Voldemort pointed his wand and a steady stream of magic was unleashed...the Dark Lord desperate to break the hold the young witch had on him...his body suspended mid-air.

When he realized he couldn't break away from the force of the witch's power, he enclosed his own protective barrier around his body, trying to shield himself and possibly apparate away.

Seeing this, Remus mumbled, "He's getting away."

Dolohov chuckled and Bellatrix cackled madly, as they watched their master's attempt to escape. What none there anticipated, was the pressure increasing within the room, many gasping as the pull of magic became almost too much to bear. Hermione's eyes whitened again, and her core flashed white as streaks of lightening attacked Voldemort's shield, bringing it down instantly, her Phoenix cry echoing through the halls of the Ministry...as Voldemort's wand burned to ash.

Dumbledore nodded once, holding Harry, who was still unconscious in his arms.

"All is revealed."

The Phoenix cry was heard again, as Hermione's aura expanded in power...twice as large as before.

Voldemort's screams could be heard, as his corporeal body turned to ash being bombarded by the elemental fire of the Phoenix.

When the Dark Lord was completely vanquished and the battle won, Hermione's power began to fade until she was standing there, elevated...a large sigh emanating from her mouth. Appearance changed, Hermione's hair was now a long auburn red and her eyes were a piercing blue. Lowering herself down to the ground, she instantly vanished the barrier surrounding Harry and Dumbledore as everyone present watched with expressions that ranged from fury, fear, awe and wonder.

"Harry." Hermione whispered, gently touching her best friend's face.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore nodded, "that was most impressive, I take it your magic is no longer unstable."

"No, Sir." Hermione sighed, looking up at all the faces that were watching the scene closely. Minister Fudge took that moment to come forward and assert himself.

"Dumbledore, what is the meaning of this?"

"Perhaps we might table this discussion for a more appropriate time, Cornelius?"

Fudge's face started to turn red. "I don't think you have the right to make that call, Dumbledore. And perhaps you might explain Miss Granger's sudden display of power?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, and Harry...who was now fully awake...smiled softly at his friend. Helping Harry to his feet, Hermione took a step back with her best friend in tow.

"Perhaps it might be best to worry about getting the Death Eaters back in Azkaban...where they belong." Hermione snarled, glaring over at Dolohov venomously.

Bellatrix, in a fit of anger, managed at that precise moment to escape her bonds and grabbed for her wand...pointing it directly at Hermione and Harry. But before she could finish shouting _Avada_ _Kedavra_...Hermione's hand swept out and in a burst of flame, the former deranged Death Eater, right hand to Voldemort, was instantly turned to ash.

Fudge gaped at the young witch apoplectically and then made a motion for the Aurors to come and take her, but Hermione flexed her hand and froze everyone in the room.

Glaring at the Minister, she snarled hatefully, "This is all your fault, you pathetic idiotic man. You allowed Lucius Malfoy to manipulate you, allowed Delores Umbridge to torture students at Hogwarts...when I'm done with you, you'll be lucky not to end up in Azkaban yourself."

Hermione held Harry close to her body, and in a flash of white heat..._they were gone._

The Minister stood there dumbfounded as Dumbledore and the members of the Order of the Phoenix smirked in glee at the Minister of Magic being firmly reprimanded by a sixteen-year-old witch. Then Dumbledore cleared his throat while Cornelius flushed angrily and waved the Aurors forward. Dolohov, Yaxley, Rookwood, both Lestrange brothers were petrified and their wands taken.

Lucius Malfoy stood there in the atrium, unapologetically, as he sneered at the Minister. Cornelius glowered at the blonde man angrily, until Dumbledore whispered something into the man's ear. The Minister looked over at the former Headmaster of Hogwarts and nodded reluctantly. Dumbledore then smiled widely and walked over to each of the captured Death Eaters...murmuring a spell underneath his breath. When he was done, the Aurors took those who had escaped Azkaban back to their rightful home.

Dumbledore then approached Lucius Malfoy and smirked at the blonde man. "It would seem Mr. Malfoy, that we have a bit of a problem. You were caught red-handed as it were, attacking children and openly engaging in Death Eater activities. As such, it is doubtful that even with your considerable influence, you'd be able to weasel your way out of a stay in Azkaban." The blond man said nothing, nor gave any of what he was thinking away. "So, I have a proposition if you will." At this Lucius Malfoy's countenance changed from stoic to slightly wary.

"And just what sort of compromise did you have in mind, Dumbledore?" Lucius sneered haughtily.

"Well, one of two options really. I can either remove your memories of tonight and you return home to your wife, or...you can agree to take an unbreakable vow to not reveal any of what you've seen here this evening."

Lucius' eyes raised in interest. "I take it you didn't give my brethren in arms the choice?"

Dumbledore smiled genuinely. "I'm afraid not. All of them have been returned to Azkaban, and there they will stay. You will have no worry that word might get out to their family members of your willingness to cooperate. I assume there are no other active Death Eaters we need to worry about?"

Lucius sneered at the old codger with something akin to hatred mingled with respect. "Thoros Nott and Walden McNair as well as Travers, Goyle and Crabbe Sr. are active followers, although none were tasked with attending here this evening. If you were to leave them alone, I would be willing to cooperate."

Dumbledore nodded. "You have our word, isn't that right Cornelius?"

Dumbledore looked to the man who was staring at both him and the Malfoy Lord with open dislike.

He went to say something, but heard a voice clearing their throat behind him.

"You might want to listen to Dumbledore, Minister."

Cornelius turned around, his eyes widening at the newest member of the party.

"Professor Snape, what are you doing here?"

Severus smirked and gave both Dumbledore and Lucius a quick nod. "I'm afraid it would be in everyone's best interest to bring these unfortunate incidents to a swift resolution. I'm not sure if you are aware as of yet," Severus' smirk widened a bit, "but Delores Umbridge...your Ministry plant at Hogwarts, has been administering Veritaserum to the students as well as utilizing an illegal blood quill as part of her detention practices. Unfortunately for Miss Umbridge, she's had a run in with the centaurs and no one can seem to locate her currently."

Cornelius' eyes widened comically and he blustered out angrily. "And how in Merlin's name, did Delores end up with a herd of centaurs?"

"Apparently she was planning on using the _cruciatis curse_ on Mr. Potter, but Miss Granger intervened. I have it on good authority she led Delores to believe that Dumbledore had some kind of secret weapon hidden within the Forbidden Forest. She and Mr. Potter, led Umbridge to the forest, where the centaurs were located. Delores attacked Ronan, one of the herd members, just as Miss Granger anticipated she would. I'm afraid they didn't take to it kindly and are now calling for war."

Dumbledore and Lucius smirked together, causing Snape to roll his eyes in disgust. Fudge just looked like he'd been _stupified_.

Glaring back at Dumbledore, Fudge sighed out in irritation. "It would seem that perhaps you might need to take up your old post again, Dumbledore."

Dumbledore to his credit didn't say anything, but his eyes were twinkling like mad.

Lucius considered all the evidence before him. He was unhappy with the turn of events, but understood that Dumbledore was extending an olive branch. The Malfoy family was powerful, and as such there was a good chance Lucius could worm his way out of Azkaban, but claiming the imperious twice would do him no favors within certain Pureblood circles...and he didn't want to be branded a blood traitor. His sister-in-law was gone...not too distressing, but Narcissa would be heartbroken. It was regrettable, but not enough to seek vengeance on her behalf. He did have one question however.

"I just have one question before I decide on which path to choose, Dumbledore." At Dumbledore's nod, Lucius continued, "How is it possible that Miss Granger is a Sorceress? She has no magical lineage as far as I'm aware."

Dumbledore smirked widely and steepled his fingers, before he nodded to Severus, who cast a_ muffliato_ over himself and the Malfoy Lord.

"Miss Granger was given to her Muggle parents as a babe. Her Muggle mother is a squib, and her magical family left Miss Granger with them when they went into hiding during the first reign of Voldemort."

Lucius visibly flinched at the use of the Dark Lord's name. "And her parents?"

Dumbledore looked at Lucius over the rim of his glasses. "Marlene McKinnon and Fabian Prewett."

Lucius nodded once, considering the new information. The girl was a Pureblood and a member of the Sacred 28.

A powerful member...he smirked inwardly and nodded once to Dumbledore. "I will choose to take the unbreakable vow. I suspect Miss Granger is as of yet, unaware of her true lineage."

Dumbledore nodded. "She suspects and due to her obvious change in appearance, will understand sooner rather than later, she is remarkably bright. It will be shared with her over the summer. Muriel Prewett, as the head of the family, was aware that Fabian had sired an heir...but her loyalty to me and the Order...well, she was encouraged to keep it confidential until we could discern what happened to the child."

"Very well." Lucius nodded at his friend who bowed his head in turn. "Severus will be the bonder and you will let me know when Miss Granger is aware of her heritage."

Severus glared at his oldest friend. "Already plotting, Lucius?"

Lucius smirked. "It would seem that fate has smiled on the Malfoy family this day. You have always been aware, Severus, that my support of the Dark Lord was more at my Father's insistence. Now that Abraxas is dead, as well as his master...there is no longer any reason for myself nor my family to feel threatened. I have one other request however."

Dumbledore considered the blonde wizard with amusement radiating from his eyes. "I am not surprised, Lucius. What is it?"

Glancing over at Fudge, Lucius grimaced. "Fudge needs to be replaced as Minister. The man is far too easy to manipulate and I'm unsure how one might go about securing his allegiance after this debacle. Miss Granger's safety as well as her family would be compromised if Fudge were to stay in power."

"I'm _surprised_ you care at all for Miss Granger's well being, Lucius." Severus dead-panned.

"I'm just being practical old friend, for the greater good and all that." Lucius stated in that bored tone of his, that Severus knew was a front. Lucius wasn't a stupid man...far from it and he'd find someway to maneuver his son and Miss Granger together.

The thought made Severus groan inwardly.

Dumbledore nodded once and held out his right hand, which Lucius clasped with his right one and Severus performed the bonding.

"Do you Lucius Abraxas Malfoy swear on your magic, not to reveal what has transpired here this evening."

"I do." Lucius intoned back.

"And do you swear on you magic not to reveal Miss Granger's true heritage, powers or actions that have been taken here this night in defense of her friends."

"I do." Lucius smirked.

"And do you swear on you magic, not to reveal any of the actions carried out this night when it becomes knowledge that Miss Granger is in fact, a Prewett heir."

Lucius smirk was gone, his eyes narrowed at his friend, but he nodded again. "I do."

"And do you swear on your magic, that you or any member of your family, will not seek out in retaliation against any of those who have fought here this night. That you will protect Miss Granger-Prewett with your magic and your life."

Lucius smirked openly at his friend, who knew him too well sometimes. "I do."

At that, the magic swelled and corded around both Dumbledore's and Lucius wrists before disappearing.

When the vow was done, Lucius took a step back and bowed. "Gentleman, if it is all the same, I'd like to return home to my wife. I'm sure I can count on your discretion, as to making sure that my participation in tonight's festivities is a moot point."

"Most assuredly." Dumbledore nodded once and watched as the Malfoy Lord floo'd back to his Manor.

Looking over at Severus, who simply sighed, Dumbledore hoped that he'd made the right decision in letting the elder Malfoy go.

Things were going to change shortly and Dumbledore had no doubt that once Hermione Granger's heritage and powers were widely known, every wizard in the Wizarding world would be vying for the witch's hand.

At least with Lucius Malfoy, her safety would be assured...he'd just made sure of it.


	2. Sorceress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the Battle, Harry and Hermione have a run in with Malfoy and his cronies back at Hogwarts, where her identity is discovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all like this newish story!

When they’d finally reappeared together, Harry and Hermione were just outside of Hogwarts near the entrance to the castle. Harry couldn’t help but stare at his best friend, who looked so different than before. Where her once brown bushy hair had been now there was long deep auburn waves and her normally cinnamon brown eyes were now a bright blue. But it was her expression that had Harry worried, as there were tears falling down Hermione cheeks as she stared at him morosely.

“I’m so sorry, Harry.”

“Hermione, none of this was your fault. You tried to warn me and I _didn’t_ listen. It’s I, who should be saying I’m sorry to you.”

Wiping the tears away, Hermione breathed in deeply a few times to try and get her emotions under control while Harry just pulled her into his side, as they walked up the pathway to the castle.

“Sirius is gone.” Harry said quietly, as he valiantly tried to keep his own tears from falling. “I lost my godfather because of my own stupidity.”

Hermione just shook her head. “No, Harry. It’s Voldemort’s fault, but he’s gone now and you’re free.”

“At least Bellatrix is gone too.”

“I know I should feel guilty for ending her life, but I don’t. Does that make me a bad person?”

“Hermione, you could _never_ be a bad person. We both know that. I think the more pressing question is why do you look different?”

Hermione nodded absentmindedly as she and Harry walked into the castle and found themselves making their way towards the Gryffindor Common room. They didn’t quite make it there before they were stopped.

“_Well, look who it is?”_

Harry groaned as he glanced behind them to see Malfoy standing there with Crabbe and Goyle.

“Piss off, Malfoy!” Harry groused, but the blonde just sneered momentarily until he noticed the witch with Potter. His gaze narrowed as he took her in. He didn’t recognize her and she was _stunning_, but there was something familiar about her that he couldn’t quite place.

“You’re sneaking about in the castle Potter, and _who’s_ the witch?”

Hermione’s face broke out into a huge grin as she rolled her eyes at Harry, who despite his own grief couldn’t help but snicker. 

It was clear Malfoy didn’t recognize his best friend.

“Malfoy, just leave us alone.” Harry growled out tiredly. “Just so you’re aware, Dumbledore is returning and taking up his old post as Headmaster. Voldemort is _dead_.”

Draco’s gaze narrowed as he considered the wizard across from him. “Potter, I’m not sure who you’ve been talking to, but the Dark Lord isn’t back.”

“Shut it, Malfoy.” Hermione snarked out spitefully. “He’s dead. Gone. _Burned to ash_. If you don’t believe us, go talk to your esteemed Head of House. I’m sure he will tell you all about it.”

“Or your Father, if he’s not in Azkaban as we speak.” Harry grinned.

Draco’s gaze hardened as he sneered hatefully at the witch and wizard. “What are you both talking about?”

“Look, Malfoy? We don’t have time for this. We are heading back up to Gryffindor Tower.”

“I’m sure the High Inquisitor will have something to say about that, Potter.”

Hermione laughed at loud. “Doubtful. I do believe she’s gone off with the centaur herd and won’t be doing much of anything for a while.”

“Who in Salazar’s name are you? And how do you _know_ that?”

“Probably because Harry and I led her out to the centaurs in the first place.”

“You led her...” Draco’s eyes widened as he took in the witch and finally realized just whom she was. “_Granger?”_

“Yes, Malfoy, did you have a question?”

Draco openly gaped, while Crabbe and Goyle looked completely confused. After a moment, he went to speak when they were interrupted.

“What is _going_ on here?” A deep voice drawled and all eyes fixated on Severus Snape as he billowed down the hallway towards them.

“Mr. Potter, Miss Granger perhaps you should head back to your dorms..._now_.”

Harry glared at the Potions Professor, but Hermione tugged him along refusing to engage any further this evening. As they turned, Snape spoke up again. “Miss Granger, the Headmaster wishes to see you in his office first thing in the morning. I’m sure you have some questions for him, yes?”

Hermione’s blue eyes locked with black ones and she nodded. “I’m assuming he knows why my appearance has changed?”

Severus nodded and Hermione couldn’t help but ask, “Just one question, Sir, if I may?”

“And that would _be?”_

“What’s my real given surname?”

Severus stared at the young girl, but seeing no reason to not share the information as the entirety of the Wizarding World would know about it soon enough, he stated clearly, “_Prewett_.”

Draco gasped as his eyes widened, and even Crabbe and Goyle were stunned speechless. 

Hermione just nodded. “I see. Thank you, Sir.”

Severus nodded in return and watched the two Gryffindor’s walk away before his attention was drawn to his godson, who was staring after the witch in question.

“You look a bit green, Draco. Are you unwell?”

“She’s a Prewett? How?”

“That’s a question you’ll have to find out with the rest of the Wizarding World. Now, get back to the dungeons as it’s after curfew and take those ridiculous inquisitorial badges off. Miss Umbridge will no longer be welcomed here at Hogwarts.”

Draco nodded but before he grabbed his two friends by their collars and dragged them with him back down to Slytherin, he asked his Godfather: “Potter said he’s dead. Is it true?”

Severus nodded once.

“And Father?”

“At the Manor, with your Mother.”

Draco nodded again and thanked his godfather, before he stormed back towards Slytherin House. 

He couldn’t wait to share the good news with everyone.

When Hermione and Harry made it back to the Gryffindor common room, they were surprised to see many of their housemates waiting for them. Most were openly staring at Hermione and it was Seamus who asked the questions that were on everyone’s mind.

“Uhm, Harry? Who’s the witch?”

Hermione giggled while Harry just grinned. “It’s Hermione, Seamus. Don’t worry, everything will get explained soon.”

“M’kay, mate. Where’s Ron, Ginny and Neville?”

“They should be back soon,” Hermione offered, “in fact, they might be in the infirmary getting checked out by Madam Pomfrey as we speak.”

Seamus nodded and turned towards Dean, who seemed to be stunned by Hermione’s new look as he couldn’t stop staring at her. Seamus chuckled lowly and then looked briefly around the common room and found that most of the wizards were openly gaping at Hermione.

“And You Know Who?”

“_Dead_.” Harry said flatly.

The astonished gasps from everyone were not wholly unexpected.

“How?” Dean asked with a slight edge to his voice.

“It’s complicated, mate,” Harry admitted, “and I’m not sure what the Prophet will be reporting as to what happened. I haven’t even had a chance to discuss it with Dumbledore yet.”

“I don’t understand.” Dean replied with confusion.

“As I said, it’s complicated but he’s gone and he’s not coming back this time.”

Harry’s green eyes were steadfast as he glared down everyone in the common room and they all nodded at him in return. Hermione could see the looks of awe on all their faces. It would likely be assumed that Harry had been the one to defeat Voldemort and if Hermione had to guess, Dumbledore would likely support that assumption despite what had really happened. It made her wonder just how Dumbledore would keep her transformation a secret, but that was probably something they’d discuss in the morning.

“Harry needs to get some rest. Can we table this until tomorrow?”

Everyone nodded and Hermione led Harry upstairs to the boys dormitory. When they got there, Harry sat down with a defeated sigh at the edge of his bed and pulled Hermione down next to him.

“Do you think the truth will come out?”

Hermione shrugged. “To an extent at least for now. Don’t worry on it, Harry. I’m sure Dumbledore will tell us more tomorrow. Try and get some sleep.”

Harry considered his best friend as he ran a finger through her reddish-auburn locks. “You look so different. Do you think it was a glamour of some kind?”

Hermione shrugged. “Probably, but I’m not sure it matters at this point. If Snape is right and I’m a Prewett, that means that Ron and I are first cousins.”

Harry grimaced instinctively and Hermione nodded. “Yeah, that was my thought too.”

“He’s not going to be happy about it.”

“Nothing for it at this point. Besides, I don’t think we were ever really well suited, do you?”

Harry chuckled as he shook his head. “No. You always were too bright for him.” At Hermione’s look of incredulity, Harry quickly clarified; “Don’t get me wrong, he’s my best mate but you need someone to challenge you, Hermione and as much as I love my best mate...he’s not it.”

“Noted.” Hermione quipped before she let out a heavy sigh. “Harry, who do you think my biological mother was?”

“That’s a good question and I have no idea. I’m going to assume that one of Molly’s brothers is your biological father so it could’ve been either Fabian or Gideon.”

“They were both killed by Dolohov.” Harry nodded while Hermione’s expression soured. “I should’ve ended him too.”

Harry was quick to envelope Hermione into his side. “Don’t say that, Hermione. You did what needed to be done with Voldemort and Bellatrix, but those were in self defense.”

“He cursed me...Dolohov, and left me for _dead_. If it hadn’t been for my powers manifesting, I’d be dead right now too.”

Harry scowled heavily as he pulled her tighter into his side and placed a soft kiss on her temple in reassurance. “Thank Merlin that didn’t happen then. We’re both alive and he’s _gone_. I don’t know about you, but all I feel right now is relief and sadness. It’s an odd way to feel. I’m going to miss Sirius, but I don’t want to go back to the Dursley’s, as selfish as that sounds.”

Hermione pulled back a bit and smiled in that reassuring way of hers. “Maybe you don’t have to anymore. He’s gone, so maybe you could stay at the Burrow or even with me. We will figure it out, Harry. You won’t have to go back there. I’d imagine Sirius left everything to you anyway so Grimmauld place is now yours most likely. You’ll be of age in a year. It will work out, I promise. We will figure it out together.”

Harry smiled tenderly at his best friend. She was a sister to him in so many ways and he loved her as such.

“I didn’t say thank you, Hermione.”

“You don’t ever have to thank me, Harry. That’s what family is for.”

Harry nodded as he laid down on his bed, and watched in amused affection as Hermione fussed over him before she tucked him in then giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Get some sleep, Harry. We will figure everything out tomorrow, okay?”

“Sounds good.” Harry replied sleepily, and before he knew it...he was out like a light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a kudo!


	3. The Dark Lord is Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco returns back to Slytherin and tells his housemates the Dark Lord is dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi...next chapter. So FYI...some things might not make sense now, but trust me they will be explained as the story progresses 😉

Draco had made his way down to the Slytherin Common room with Crabbe and Goyle trudging at his rear. 

He still couldn’t believe that the Dark Lord was gone!

Had Potter actually defeated him or had it been Dumbledore?

And what was up with Granger...._fuck! _

No, obviously she wasn’t a Granger anymore, she was a Prewett! (If Uncle Severus was to be believed).

That meant she was at least a half blood, but something told Draco that wasn’t the case either. In all likelihood, she was a Pureblood. The Prewetts might have been considered blood traitors to some, but they were still Sacred 28 and as such, wouldn’t likely fraternize much less marry someone not of Pureblood lineage too.

He’d been shocked by the witch with Potter when he’d first seen her. Long lustrous auburn hair and striking blue eyes. She had been wearing what looked like dragonhide, although Draco had no idea how that was possible. 

It was all so confusing.

When he spoke out the password for the Slytherin common room and sauntered inside, everyone quieted as they took in his expression. He was the undisputed Prince of his House and as such, when he walked into a room people paid attention.

He nodded to Flint, Higgs and Pucey who were sitting in their prime spot by the fireplace. Theo, Blaise, Pansy and Millicent were over in the corner while the rest of his house was dispersed throughout the room.

He stood there for a moment until all eyes were upon him. Flint, who never subtle, asked what was going on.

“I just came from speaking with Severus,” Draco began roughly, “apparently the Dark Lord is dead.”

Gasps filled the room, while Pucey and Flint stood up and walked towards him.

“What do you mean he’s dead?”

“Just what I said, Marcus.” Draco ran a hand through his blonde hair before he continued, “And that’s not all. I ran into Potter and Granger coming back from somewhere. My guess, Potter vanquished the Dark Lord. He looked beaten and exhausted, but that wasn’t the strangest news.”

Everyone looked at each other perplexed, but Pansy spoke up and said, “What do you mean, Draco?”

“When I ran into Potter, he was with a witch I didn’t immediately recognize. When Severus showed up, I realized it was Granger...except it _wasn’t_. You will all notice her in the morning. Her appearance has completely _changed_, but what was even more intriguing is she’s not a mudblood...she’s a _Prewett_.”

Shocked shouts and outraged whispers filtered throughout their common room, while Crabbe and Goyle backed up Draco’s words.

“It’s true. Professor Snape, I heard him say it himself.” Crabbe replied. “She’s a Prewett.”

“Who’s her Father?” Adrian asked.

“Dunno,” Draco admitted, “it could be either of the twin Prewetts. The question is, who’s her mother?”

Everyone was silent for a moment until Theo spoke up. “I might have an idea about that.”

All eyes fell to Theo and he twitched uncomfortably at the scrutiny.

“How would you know?”

“Because of my mum. My grandmother on my mother’s side was a McKinnon, and she married a Selwyn. I have a family tree of the McKinnon’s, which is in the Nott family vault now. I looked at it before I entered Hogwarts as my mother left some correspondence for me inside her personal vault. Marlene McKinnon married Fabian Prewett in 1979. Her family went into hiding at some point as we all know, but what was interesting was that there was a line off their union. A daughter. Born September 19, 1979. I waited to see if a Prewett would be sorted at our first year ceremony. When it didn’t happen, I’d assumed the book had been wrong or she died.”

Everyone stilled as they all processed the new information. It wasn’t long before Blaise decided to speak.

“If this is true? Granger is the last living heir of both the McKinnon and Prewett families. There are no other Heirs.”

“Fuck!” Draco wiped his hands down his face, realizing what this could likely mean. “She just found out tonight, which means she probably doesn’t know whom her biological mother is yet. Are you sure about this, Theo?”

Theo nodded. “It would make her my third cousin, I believe?”

Everyone nodded at that, and Draco had to admit the idea was intriguing. 

“Did the tapestry give a different name other than Hermione?”

Theo thought about it before his face paled and he shook his head. “No it didn’t. It said Hermione Marlene Prewett. Fuck! I didn’t even think about it at the time!”

Draco sighed. “It’s not your fault, Theo. Hermione while not a common name, it’s not impossible for someone to have the same name. There’s no way you could’ve known.”

“That had to be some powerful glamour to have hidden her all these years though,” Theo stated shakily, speaking out his thoughts almost breathlessly, “to even confound the Hogwarts register? Dark magic for sure. Possibly blood magic.”

“So the question remains, who hid her and why?” Draco mused with a contemplative expression.

“That’s not the only issue,” Theo went on, “if the glamour was that powerful to hold for so many years, something even more powerful would’ve had to have happened to break the Dark Magic. There aren’t many things that can do that?”

Draco sat down and placed his arms on his thighs as he eyed everyone in the common room.

“What could do it? Do any of you have any ideas?”

Everyone just sat there pondering the question, but it was Terrence Higgs who finally spoke.

“The only thing I can think of to break such a spell, would be elemental magic.”

Everyone turned at the wizard in shock, some were openly gaping while others just looked like they’d been petrified by the insinuation.

“A sorceress?” Draco breathed out in wonder. “Is that what your saying, Higgs?”

Terrence nodded. “Yes. Mind you there hasn’t been a true sorceress in over six centuries. But if Hermione Prewett is a sorceress and that was _known?_ Shite, can any of you come up with a better reason to hide her away?”

“Fucking Salazar!” Draco shook his head. “I need to owl my Father. Oh fuck! That totally makes sense now! She was wearing something that looked an awful lot like dragon hide when I saw her tonight with Potter. Which likely means she’s a Fire Elemental! She was the one who killed the Dark Lord!” The last words were ended on a breathless whisper to himself as Draco stared at everyone in shock. “This doesn’t leave this room, do you all understand?!”

He yelled out in warning on the final words and everyone just nodded.

When Draco was satisfied, he stood up and headed into his dorm room to write a letter to his Father.

If anyone could give him the answers he needed, it would hopefully be his Father.


	4. No More Cause?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius returns to Malfoy Manor and receives Draco’s letter.

Lucius had returned to Malfoy Manor and unsurprisingly, his wife was waiting for him in his study. He could see the tension radiating from her body before she turned and faced him, her face relaxing and breaking out into a relieved sigh as she walked over into his welcoming embrace.

“You were gone much longer than I’d anticipated, Luc. What happened?”

Lucius gently extricated himself from his wife and led her over to the couch before pouring himself a generous helping of firewhiskey. After taking a swallow, he sat down next to Narcissa, who was clearly agitated and worried.

“The Dark Lord is dead.”

Lucius wasn’t surprised by his wife’s rapid intake of breath as she stared at him.

“_How?”_

Lifting up his right arm, Narcissa saw the patterned swirl marks that indicated her husband had made an unbreakable vow. Her gaze darkened as she lifted his hand more visibly and Lucius watched as her lips tightened in response.

“Why was this necessary?”

“To protect our family, Cissa. To prevent me from going to Azkaban.”

Narcissa nodded. “And the others?”

“All back in Azkaban, save one.”

“And whom was that one?”

Lucius took Narcissa’s hand within his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I’m sorry, Pet.”

To her credit, Narcissa just nodded once as she turned her head away and Lucius watched his wife’s expression close down as her mind processed his words.

“Who killed her?”

“Cissa, Bellatrix sealed her own fate when she chose to follow the Dark Lord. She killed your cousin tonight. I held no love for Black, but he was your family and she cut him down without a second thought.”

He watched his wife bow her head as she let out a quiet sigh.

It was to be expected that his wife would wish to know who had killed her sister. Narcissa had adored both her older sisters growing up, but Andromeda had been blasted off the family tree for marrying a Muggleborn and Bellatrix had been completely mad even before her incarceration.

“How did you manage to return home unscathed? If I am to assume the worst, how is it you’re here, Luc?”

“_Dumbledore_.”

Narcissa hissed on the name as she gave her husband a critical eye. “Dumbledore spared you? Spared our family?”

Lucius just lifted an eyebrow and Narcissa nodded in sudden understanding. “Ah, not just ours then.”

Lucius couldn’t help but smile softly at how Slytherin his wife was. Her intelligence had always disarmed him, even when they were in school together.

“I’m assuming Dumbledore wants something from you, hence why he made you take an unbreakable vow?”

Lucius smirked, but didn’t respond to the question. Not that he needed to. He watched as his wife stood up and walked over to the window, staring out over the extensive gardens. Her posture was rigid, and Lucius knew she was deep in thought trying to process everything.

“Cissa, I know you aren’t happy about Bellatrix, but you must understand that this was for the best. Had I been sent to Azkaban and the Dark Lord lived? Draco would’ve been tasked and branded into his service. Whatever my failings are as a Father, a husband—you must know, I would’ve never wanted that for him.”

He watched his wife turn around and saw the shimmering wetness behind her eyes as she considered him.

“I know, Luc. I do understand that and I never wanted that for our son. I loved Bellatrix true, but she was not the same witch from our childhood. Azkaban changed her irrevocably and I’m not sure what I would’ve done had Draco been forced into this mess.”

Lucius smiled softly at his wife and said, “You would’ve handled it with the same grace and strength you handle everything else, my love; while simultaneously looking for a way to turn the situation to our advantage. As you’ve always done.”

Narcissa nodded in agreement. 

Most people were of the opinion that she was just a beautiful trophy wife, but Lucius had always known differently. It had been her cunning that had allowed him to slip through the cracks within the Ministry after Voldemort’s first fall and it would seem now, her husband had somehow secured their position despite the Dark Lord falling a second time.

Her blue gaze turned towards him and her eyes narrowed slightly before she spoke. “Why do I feel that there’s so much more to this?”

“Because you’re utterly brilliant.” Lucius grinned in admiration at his lovely bride.

“Is this something we can utilize to our advantage?”

“I do believe that was why I was given this choice.” Lucius raised his arm up and Narcissa just sighed in pained understanding.

“So Dumbledore spared you, our family, which is completely unexpected yet somehow knowing that man as I do, makes me wonder what he was thinking.”

“Love, I’ve never claimed to understand Dumbledore’s motivations. He was and is, as manipulative as the Dark Lord ever was. He just hides it behind a twinkling, doddering facade.”

This elicited a small chuckle from his wife. “That’s true.”

“It is.”

She walked back over and sat down, taking his hand in her’s as she gazed into his eyes with a look of pure affection.

“I am glad that you are home and safe. Whatever concessions you needed to make to come back to me, I can live with it as long as it keeps our family safe.”

Lucius leant over and kissed his wife with gratitude, starkly realizing as she sighed into his embrace that he might’ve never had this opportunity again had he’d been sent away to the bowels of the North Sea. When they separated, Lucius stood up and brought his wife with him.

“We should retire for the night. I’d imagine the next few days are going to be rather explosive.”

“Will the other families think we’ve betrayed the cause?”

“There is no more cause, Cissa. He’s gone, and things are coming soon that will bring everything into focus.”

Narcissa nodded, trusting her husband enough to know that whatever had happened, he’d done what was best for their family.

As they made their way upstairs and into their suite of rooms, Lucius took his wife with him as they bathed together, enjoying the peace and solitude for what it was. As they were getting ready to retire for the evening some time later, there was a light tapping on the window. Opening it up, Lucius noticed Draco’s owl and reached for the letter. The owl waited, obviously instructed to stay for a reply, so Lucius sat down and immediately opened the letter.

_ **Father-** _

_ **I am sorry to bother you so late this evening but something has come to my attention and it could not wait.** _

_ **This evening, I ran into Potter as he was returning from somewhere. He was with a witch I didn’t immediately recognize at first, but later realized was Hermione Granger. Uncle Severus found us in the hallway and in due course of the conversation, it was revealed that Hermione Granger is in fact a Prewett. I was also told that He is dead. Is it true?** _

_ **When I returned to Slytherin, the news was shared about Granger being a Prewett. This is where it got interesting. It would seem that Theodore Nott’s maternal grandmother was a McKinnon and his mother had left him a McKinnon Family tapestry of some kind. He noticed before our first year that Fabian Prewett and Marlene McKinnon had married before the Prewett Heir was killed. He’d also noted that they’d had a child, a girl born September 19, 1979. Hermione Marlene Prewett. Theo didn’t make the connection until this evening.** _

_ **But that’s not the strangest part. As we were hypothesizing on how Granger could’ve been hidden under such a long term glamour, it was speculated that Dark blood Magic would’ve had to been employed to hide her true identity, particularly from the Hogwarts register as it would’ve shown her true magical signature. Terrence Higgs then noted that only magic stronger than Dark blood magic could’ve broken the glamour and revealed her true identity. Elemental magic.** _

_ **I’ve sworn Slytherin House to secrecy because if this is true, and Hermione Granger is truly a Prewett then it’s likely that she may be a Sorceress as well. And if that’s true.....** _

_ **Please respond back and offer some insight. I’m sure it’s going to be all over the press come tomorrow that the Dark Lord is dead. I’m guessing it was Granger who killed him, as there would’ve been no way Potter could’ve been powerful enough to have done so.** _

_ **Your Son,** _

_ **Draco** _

Lucius re-read the letter twice and smiled genuinely at how clever his son was. To have figured that out so quickly was to be admired and it also gave him some additional insight as well. Blood magic. 

Someone had hidden her away as a child?

Both parents had perished in the summer of 1981, and the McKinnon family had long gone into hiding some time before that. Lucius had always believed it was because of their refusal to join the Dark Lord and their ties to the Order, but what if it had been more than that? 

There had been no mention of Fabian Prewett marrying, nor a whisper he’d sired an heir.

Why was that?

Did they somehow know that their child would need protection?

Merlin, could there have been another Prophecy out there somewhere? 

That was the only thing that made sense.

Lucius grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote a quick note to his son. He couldn’t tell Draco much due to his vow, but his son would understand his message clear enough.

Once the owl was sent, Lucius moved back into bed and wrapped himself around his wife.

“What did Draco want, dear?”

“He knows the Dark Lord is dead and was looking for confirmation.”

Narcissa nodded sleepily. “It’s good Draco will be safe.”

“It is.” Lucius stated deeply as he rolled his wife over and kissed her passionately. “I do love you, Cissa.”

His wife’s eyes sparked in the low candlelight as she ran a hand through his long pale blonde locks. “I love you too, Luc. I always have and I always will.”

Elsewhere, Draco sat by himself near the owl cove one level up from the dungeons. Technically, he was still in Slytherin territory and it was the only place where his housemates could send and receive owl post. As he stared into the night sky, he squinted when he saw movement on the horizon. The speck got bigger and Draco grinned when he saw his owl returning. When she landed, he gave her an owl treat and a quick nuzzle before watching her fly off to the Owlry. Unrolling the parchment, Draco’s breath hitched on the very short missive from his Father.

In fact there were only two sentences....

_ **My Son-** _

_ **Yes, he is dead.** _

_ **I am very proud of you Draco.** _

_ **Your Father** _

Bloody hell!   
  
His father had _never_ said those words to him before. 

_Not ever!_

It was enough for him to know that everything he’d speculated was spot on.


	5. No Longer a Granger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione learns the truth from Dumbledore?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there is a bit of history here that’s not exactly canon...but will be explained in upcoming chapters in regards to Molly’s relationship with Muriel.

The sun filtered through the window of the Gryffindor fifth year’s girl’s dormitory. Hermione had closed her draperies around her bed except for a small sliver, hoping that no one would notice her this morning. 

She _knew_ everyone would have questions about her changed appearance.

When she’d gotten back to her dorms last night and went to take a quick shower before bed, she’d been shocked by what she’d seen when she’d looked into the mirror. Her bushy hair was much more tamed and no longer a mousy brown color, but fused with auburn, reds and coppery highlights. But it was her eyes that had been the biggest shock. Where brown had once been, striking blue was now in its place. Her eyelashes had lengthened, her skin was a bit more porcelain but her height and general body structure had remained the same, just slightly curvier—but not much.

It had taken her a while to fall asleep, but once she had, she’d slept hard.

No dreams, no nightmares...nothing.

It was _odd_.

Now as she squinted at the lightening of the room through her curtain, she couldn’t help but wonder what the future had in store for her. She knew she was a Prewett, but beyond that there were so many questions. 

How did she end up with her mum and dad?

How would they react to her changed appearance?

Did Dumbledore know who she was all along?

How would the rest of the school react?

These questions and more ran like a broken record throughout her prodigious mind. Then a defeated sigh fell through her lips as she lifted her body into a sitting position before opening the curtain of her bed and peering out; heaving another sigh but this time in relief, as she noticed her roommates were still asleep.

Reaching for her wand from under her pillow and remembering it was destroyed the night before, Hermione wandlessly cast a silencing charm and quickly grabbed a clean set of clothes from her school trunk before moving into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

Once dressed, Hermione headed down into the common room, surprised to see Ron and Harry already awake and waiting for her.

“Hey, Hermione.” Harry said softly, as he came over to envelope her into a firm hug. When she pulled back, she turned to Ron who was gaping at her.

“Merlin, Harry! When you said her appearance changed, I had no idea!”

“Thanks, Ronald.” Hermione shook her head at her friend.

Ron cleared his throat awkwardly. “So, you’re a Prewett?”

“According to Professor Snape. I was going to head up to see the Headmaster. Are you both coming too?”

Both Harry and Ron nodded.

“If it’s okay with you?” Harry asked.

“Sure.”

Harry led the way out of the Gryffindor common room, followed by his two best friend’s—who were awfully quiet as if they didn’t know what to say to each other.

Once they’d reached Dumbledore’s office, the griffin moved, instantly allowing all three of them access. With a wary look, they all followed the staircase up towards the top.

Once outside the Headmaster’s door, it suddenly unlocked with a click and Harry pulled the door open for his two friends.

“Ah, Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley. I wasn’t expecting you this morning but perhaps I should’ve, yes?”

Harry nodded as Dumbledore waved his wand and two more chairs appeared next to the one that was already situated from across his desk.

“Please have a seat.”

“Thank you, Headmaster.” Hermione said softly as she sat down between Harry and Ron.

The Headmaster considered the trio before him, his blue eyes twinkling as he offered them a lemon drop. All three shook their heads and waited to be addressed.

“I’m sure this must come as a shock to you, Miss Granger.”

“It’s not Granger though, is it Sir?”

“No, it’s not. Professor Snape mentioned to me last evening what you’d inquired of him, and what he’d told you. I know you must have many questions, yes?”

“Yes, Sir. We all do.”

Dumbledore nodded. “I suppose I should start from the beginning, as it’s always the best place to do so?”   
  
At the three interested sets of eyes considered him in return, Dumbledore sat back and began his story.

“As you know, Miss Granger, and I will continue to refer to you as such for now...” at Hermione’s nod, the Headmaster forged on... “You were born on September 19, 1979. Your Father, Fabian Prewett had married your Mother, Marlene McKinnon in a secret ceremony a few months before your birth. As you are all aware, a Prophecy was given about Mr. Potter in regards to his role in the defeat of Riddle. What was not common knowledge, was another Prophecy was given not too long afterwards about another child that would also be instrumental in his defeat. The second Prophecy had been more concerning than the first, and as such, when it was determined who the child in question was, plans were made to hide the family.”

“The McKinnon’s.” Ron spoke up and Dumbledore nodded sadly.

“Yes. Marlene became pregnant, and as I’m sure your all aware, she was a loyal member of the Order as was Fabian. The McKinnon family went into hiding just before you were born, Miss Granger. The only ones other than the McKinnon family who knew of her marriage to Fabian and the birth of their child, was Muriel Prewett.”

“Aunt Muriel knew?” Ron gasped out in shock.

“She knew Fabian had sired an Heir, but not where the child had gone. For a time, it was assumed the child had perished when the McKinnon family had been killed during the summer of 1981. Your Uncle Fabian had been devastated by the loss. I’m not sure what he knew, as it’s all still a bit unsure; but suffice it to say that Muriel knew the name of the child as it had shown on the family tapestry at Fosgate Hall. When Miss Granger’s name showed on the Hogwarts register when her magic expressed, I began to suspect that she and the Prewett child were one and the same. But without tangible proof, it was impossible to be sure.”

“I don’t understand, Sir,” Hermione’s faced had paled and her voice was shaky as she asked, “why would you have made that connection at all?”

“Because the Prewett daughter born and you shared the same birthday and the same first name.”

“Oh!” Hermione’s voice was frail as she bit down on her lip hard, trying to keep her emotions under control. Harry reached for her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“Why didn’t you come forward before now, Sir?”

Dumbledore sighed. “Because as I said, Mr. Potter, it was a theory. _An unproven one. _Unless I was willing to use Legilimency on the Granger’s to determine if they’d been influenced in some way magically, there was no way to positively determine if Miss Granger was in fact, a Prewett legally. I wasn’t able to determine any connection with the Granger’s until just a few months ago. Apparently your adoptive mother Helen, was distantly related to the McKinnon family. She is a squib.”

“Why did my appearance change?”

“Ah, now that is something I can help with.” Dumbledore nodded. “I have come to believe that for whatever reason, your parents decided to hide your identity under a powerful glamour. Blood magic.”

At this confession, Hermione gasped while Ron and Harry paled.

“When your elemental powers manifested and broke free, the glamour faded and the spell was broken. I’m unsure of all the ramifications at present.”

“I don’t understand.” Hermione admitted with a worried expression.

“I asked Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape to visit the Granger’s this morning. If what I suspect is true, when the spell broke last night, their ties to you, Miss Granger were likely broken as well.”

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears.

Harry, realizing what the Headmaster was saying, pulled his friend into his embrace while Ron just sat their stunned.

“Are you saying that my parents won’t remember me?” Hermione whispered in agony.

“Yes, Miss Granger. Again I’m unsure, but it would make sense that whatever enchantment was designed to hide your identity would have also affected the Granger’s in some way.”

“Sir,” Harry began, “what will happen to Hermione if her parents no longer remember her?”

Dumbledore sighed deeply as he suddenly looked far older than his advanced age.

“Muriel Prewett has made her feelings very clear to me from the start when she came to me with her concerns. She wishes to claim you for House Prewett, Miss Granger. You are the last of both the McKinnon family and the Prewett family. I would imagine that both of your parents likely provided for you once your identity became known again. If I’m correct, you’ll likely receive a missive from Gringotts within the next few days.”

“Bloody Hell.” Ron whispered in awe. “I just realized that Aunt Muriel would be your Grandmother, Mione. Since you’re not of age, she would be your legal magical guardian.”

Hermione’s blue eyes lifted to the Headmaster in panic and he nodded. “It’s true. She has every right to claim you. Muriel while quite salty, has waited for this moment for over sixteen years. I owled her last evening after I returned from the Ministry. She is waiting for my summons, as she is anxious to meet with you, Miss Granger.”

“Oh Merlin!” Hermione whispered sadly, unsure of how she was supposed to fell about all of this. Her eyes met the worried green of her best friend and she swallowed heavily before turning her gaze back to the Headmaster.

“What of Harry, Sir? He can’t be forced to go back to the Dursley’s?”

Dumbledore smirked and sat back, his eyes twinkling like mad. “The blood protections that had kept Mr. Potter safe are no longer needed now that Riddle is dead. However, Mr. Potter isn’t of age as you are well aware.”

“And Sirius is gone.” Harry murmured pained, getting looks of sympathy from both his best friend’s.

“I’m sorry, Harry.” Dumbledore said softly. “Sirius will be missed.”

“Who would Harry’s next of kin be?”

Dumbledore steepled his hands thoughtfully as he peered at all of them over the rim of his wired spectacles.

“The Weasley Family could claim Mr. Potter into their ranks as Arthur’s mother was a Black, as could Andromeda Tonks. The Malfoy’s could also have a claim, as Narcissa is a Black.”

Harry’s face pinched and even Ron looked like he was going to be ill.

“So, if the Weasley’s were to make a magical claim, then that would open up the possibility that anyone with Black blood could counter that claim?” Hermione’s voice quavered as she asked the question and Dumbledore nodded.

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“You don’t think the Malfoy’s would do such a thing, do you?” Ron asked, clearly disgusted at the thought.

“Uncertain.” Dumbledore replied.

Hermione turned towards her best friend and said softly, “We are going to figure this out, I promise, Harry.”

Harry smiled lovingly at Hermione. “I know.”

Her answering smile warmed his heart.

He then faced the Headmaster. “Hermione’s powers?”

“She’s a Sorceress, Mr. Potter. The Prophecy given before her birth indicated as such.”

Harry nodded, while he noticed Ron stiffening gesture. “How are we going to keep this a secret?”

“I’ve done what I can to minimize the impact. The escaped Death Eaters were all obliviated and returned to Azkaban. Lucius Malfoy was placed under an unbreakable vow and allowed to return home.”

“_What?!?”_ Harry sputtered out angrily, while Hermione and Ron just stared in abject horror at the admission.

“Harry? Lucius Malfoy holds too much sway within the Ministry. Whatever your thoughts of him, much of what has transpired had been at the urging of his Father, Abraxas. Abraxas Malfoy was a truly evil man and one of Riddle’s original Knights of Walpurgis. Lucius was not sad to see Riddle fall.”

“I find that hard to believe.” Ron sneered angrily. “He cursed my sister with that blasted diary her first year!”

Dumbledore nodded sadly. “At his Father’s _insistence_. I hold no love for the Malfoy family, but you know how Pureblood culture is, Mr. Weasley. Your Father was spared much of those expectations being the younger son.”

Ron glowered and folded his arms angrily, but did not comment on the assertion. Both Harry and Hermione just appeared perplexed as there was obviously more to this than they were aware.

“Would you care for me to owl Muriel Prewett, Miss Granger?”

Hermione sighed heavily, and she looked to both her friends for reassurance. They both nodded so she reluctantly said, “I suppose it’s wise to get this over with.”

“I agree.” Dumbledore nodded as he wrote down a missive and then waved Fawkes over, letting the bird fly off with the letter.

“What is the Prophet going to report about Voldemort’s death?” Harry asked suddenly.

“That he is dead. The speculation will be that you vanquished him, Harry, and I tend to think that the public will draw their own conclusions regardless. I’m not inclined to out Miss Granger’s secret until absolutely necessary and I do believe Muriel feels likewise. I must warn you, Miss Granger, that once your powers become known it will likely make you of interest to many within the magical community.”

“Suitors you mean?” Hermione’s distaste was palatable, causing both Ron and Harry to snicker.

“Yes.” Dumbledore twinkled madly. “I do believe you will have your choice of suitors.”

“Oh joy.” Hermione quipped sarcastically. “Please tell me Muriel Prewett isn’t planning on selling me off to the higher bidder?!?”

Dumbledore chuckled as the grin that spread over his face was quite amused.

“I don’t believe Muriel cares one whit about any of those within the Aristocracy. They’ve routinely been dismissive of her as the matriarch of the Prewett family as she’s rather outspoken and until now, had no heirs to represent the future of her house. That is no longer true, but I doubt her opinion will change in this regard. She just wished to know you and impart the Prewett heritage to the last of her house.”

Hermione sighed in relief, wanting to smack both Harry and Ron who were openly laughing at her.

“Shut it, both of you!”

“Sorry, Mione.” Ron blushed while Harry just grinned widely.

“I can’t wait to see the looks on everyone’s faces.” Harry said in amusement, ignoring the fiery scowl from Hermione.

“It will be interesting.” Ron agreed.

“I’m so glad you both find this amusing.” She huffed out, folding her arms and sitting back in the chair pouting spectacularly.

“Do you have any more questions for me, Miss Granger?”

“Not at present, Headmaster.”

Dumbledore nodded. “Well, my door is always open should you find yourself in need of anything.”

“Thank you, Sir. Will you please let me know when Lady Prewett responds to your letter?”

“Of course. Why don’t you three head to the Great Hall. Breakfast should be starting shortly.”

“Yes, Headmaster.” They all said in unison as they stood en masse and walked out of Dumbledore’s office, heading for the Great Hall.

“You alright, Hermione?” Harry asked with concern laced in his voice.

“I don’t know,” she admitted quietly, “everything is going to change now, isn’t it?”

Harry caught Ron’s gaze over Hermione’s head, and both shared a look of commiseration before they respond in sync, “_Yes_.”


	6. Cousins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning outs Hermione’s new identity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first time we see Muriel and while I know that Fabian and Molly are siblings...the family dynamic will be explained in chapters to come.

As the Gryffindor Trio made their way to the Great Hall, they were met with stares from students of all the other houses. Hermione tried her best to ignore the gaping, astonished and clearly curious looks being sent her way. A few students had tried to come over and speak to the Trio, but one hard look from Harry thankfully, had everyone scurrying back to where they’d come from.

When they entered the Great Hall, it was nearly filled to capacity and the entire room went silent as everyone turned to stare. Hermione could feel the weighted gazes of everyone on her, but Harry just took her hand and led her towards their spot at the Gryffindor table. When they sat down, Dean silently handed over that mornings Daily Prophet that had just been delivered not even a few minutes ago.

Harry unfolded the paper and stared down at the front page article.

In big bold letters, the title of the article said simply: _**Dark Lord Returns and is Vanquished**_

As Harry went on to read the article, he wasn’t surprised that some of the details from the previous evenings Ministry break in had made the papers. The most notable parts were of the recapture of the escaped Death Eaters, the battle that took place, and Riddle’s defeat. Luckily, there was no mention of Hermione’s powers in said defeat of Voldemort and as Dumbledore had predicted, the Prophet had speculated that the Chosen One had defeated the Dark Lord. As he lifted his eyes to his best mate, who was also reading another copy of the Prophet, Harry noticed everyone openly staring at him except those in Slytherin House, who were more focused on Hermione, who was reading through the paper next to him.

“You okay?” He whispered into her ear.

“Not especially. Are they all _still_ staring?”

“Yes.”

“Brilliant.” She groused out sarcastically. “You do realize, Harry, that you’re even going to be _more_ famous now than you were before?”

Hermione’s blue eyes lifted to meet green, and there was a playful smirk threatening to break free at the corner of her mouth.

“Not nice, Mione.”

“I know.” She sighed as she turned towards Neville and Ginny, who were trying their hardest not to be obvious in their curiosity over her changed appearance.

“So, we’re cousins?” Ginny whispered out with a lifted eyebrow.

“So it would seem. You alright with that?”

“I think it’s brilliant.” Ginny grinned before she took a bite of her toast. “Mum’s going to lose the plot when she finds out.”

Hermione paled and even Ron grimaced. “She right,” he admitted, “Mum’s never gotten over the deaths of her two brothers. She’s going to officially lose it when she finds out you’re a Prewett.”

“But she’ll be happy, right?”

Both Ron and Ginny nodded. “She’ll be over the moon.” Ginny smiled reassuringly. “You’ve drawn quite the attention.”

Hermione sighed heavily, trying hard to ignore the constant stares coming her way. Her eyes briefly caught Malfoy’s across the way and his expression was different than she was used to. 

It was neither sneering nor hateful, just thoughtful and a bit...concerned? 

Hermione shook her head clear of those ridiculous thoughts. 

Draco Malfoy _hated_ her.

She might be a Pureblood now, but that wouldn’t change how he saw her.

She was still Harry Potter’s best friend.

She plated some toast and rashers before pouring herself a cuppa. Harry handed her the marmalade and the cream for her tea. With a nod of thanks, Hermione settled down and tried to eat something but her stomach was twisted up in knots. She was just so anxious to find out about her parents, it was difficult to process anything else at the moment.

She slowly took a bite of her toast and tried not to choke on it. Reaching for her tea, she took a measured sip before her gaze caught Professor Snape’s and Professor McGonagall’s as they walked into the Great Hall together. Snape seemed as surly as always, but McGonagall was clearly unhappy...her face drawn into a haggard expression. She nodded to the Potions Professor before making her way over to the Gryffindor table.

“Miss Granger, would you please meet with me after breakfast?”

Hermione stared up into the concerned gaze of her Head of House and she responded quietly, “Professor Dumbledore mentioned _where_ you were. I would just appreciate it if you could give me a simple yes or no, Professor.”

The woman grimaced before she sighed heavily and Hermione didn’t need to hear the words, the Professor’s reluctance was enough proof of what she’d feared.

“I’m _sorry_, Miss Granger.”

Hermione swallowed heavily and nodded before she dropped her head down, viciously trying to get control of her emotions. 

Her parents were lost to her.

They didn’t remember her!

Whatever spell had been used to bind them to her had broken when her glamour had dropped. She took in a deep trembling breath and lifted her head up, wetness shimmering behind her eyes as she nodded again.

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Come see me later, Miss Granger, if you have any questions.”

“I will.”

McGonagall nodded once more and made her way up to the Professor’s table. Hermione caught Snape’s dark eyes and the man just bowed his head at her, to which she returned the gesture.

He clearly wasn’t completely heartless.

“I’m sorry, Mione.” Harry whispered out emotively.

Hermione grabbed his hand under the table and gave it a squeeze. “It would seem we’re both orphans now.”

Harry nodded sadly, returned the gesture and went back to his breakfast.

Chatter was at a minimum until some time later when Dumbledore walked into the Great Hall and everyone suddenly quieted. He wasn’t alone though, as there was an elderly woman with him who was dressed in traditional witches robes that were clearly of high quality. Her measured gaze took in the students until her blue eyes locked onto the Gryffindor table.

Hermione could see her swallow uncomfortably as she stayed in the doorway, clearly waiting for something.

“That’s my Aunt Muriel.” Ron said lowly and Hermione’s eyes widened, realizing why she was here.

Dumbledore moved up to the podium to address the students:

“Good morning students. As I’m sure many of you are now aware, Lord Voldemort is dead. What the Prophet is reporting this morning is fairly accurate as to what occurred last evening. I know _many_ of you have questions, but I’m afraid now is the time to exercise patience. School will be done here in a few days and you will all be returning to your homes once again. I encourage all of you to use this time to rekindle family bonds and look forward to a more positive future.”

The Headmaster then moved off the podium and made his way over to the Gryffindor table.

“Miss Granger, if you could come with me please.”

It wasn’t posed as a question, but Hermione knew she’d go regardless. Harry squeezed her hand again while Ron just gave her a reassuring smile. She smiled shakily at both her friends, stood and followed the Headmaster towards the back of the Great Hall. When they’d reached the open doorway, she looked back and noticed that everyone’s eyes were now focused upon her. She couldn’t help but roll her eyes before turning around and moving out of the doorway, following the Headmaster and his guest into the open courtyard.

When they’d reached the side walkway under the stone awning, Dumbledore stopped and turned around to face her.

“Miss Granger, I would like to formally introduce you to Lady Muriel Prewett.”

Hermione’s blue eyes settled onto the older woman, who was giving her a very critical once over. She bowed her head in welcome.

“Lady Prewett, this is...”

Dumbledore’s introduction was quickly interrupted by the older witch.

“Yes, yes, Dumbledore. Thank you for allowing me to come and you may take your _leave,_ now.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in shock as Dumbledore cleared his throat, but he bowed politely and left them alone.

“That was a bit harsh.” Hermione said firmly, as she watched the Headmaster walk away.

“That man is a _menace, _child, and you would do well to _remember_ it. He doesn’t do anything without an ulterior motive and is far too comfortable using witches and wizards at his whim.” 

Hermione just stared in horror at the older witch, who was far more outspoken than she had ever heard from a witch.

“But enough of that man! Let me look at you!”

Hermione just stood there, while Muriel Prewett moved around her like a prized mare.

“Your hair is lovely, complexion good. You look a bit like your mother, child, although you have the Prewett eyes. I’m to understand that you’re the Brightest Witch Hogwarts has seen in some time?”

Hermione nodded dumbly, not sure what to say at the precise moment.

“Dumbledore told me about your Muggle adoptive parents. Shame it is..._truly_, for them and for you. I will be petitioning the Wizengamot for custody come the morrow. You will return with me to Fosgate Hall once school here is done.”

Hermione’s posture stiffened and she felt herself bristling at the heavy-handedness of the witch in front of her.

“Do you plan to sell me off too?”

Muriel smiled in amusement and she nodded proudly. “You have _spirit_. That is good and necessary when dealing with the pit vipers within the Wizarding Aristocracy. And to answer your rude question, _No_...I don’t plan on selling you off to anyone, child. I rather loathe the old guard and their pontificated ego-mongering. However, you will be pursued; quite extensively if the rumors are to be believed.”

“Rumors?”

“Hmm...yes. Rumors; do keep up. I was assured that you were quite intelligent.”

“Excuse me?”

“There’s no need for that, young lady. You must know a thing or two about magic to be so well placed within your year? What do you know about long term glamours?”

Hermione thought about the question for a few minutes before she spoke.

“Long term glamours are inherently tricky and difficult to maintain. The glamour often needs to be reapplied by the caster to maintain the illusion, or the charm will fail.”

“Correct.” Muriel smirked. “But your glamour held for years. Now, how do you suppose that might’ve happened?”

This came a bit quicker as Hermione’s eyes widened in understanding. “Blood magic.”

“Yes. Is there any kind of magic with the power to undo such Dark Magic?”

The young witch’s face paled as she realized where Muriel Prewett was going with this.

“Yes. Elemental magic.”

“Correct child. Elemental magic. The magic of a _Sorceress_, of which you **are**. Do not think that once your identity becomes common knowledge that the old guard won’t instantly understand what that means? In fact, if I had to hazard a guess? I’m certain some of your classmates have already come to that conclusion and are just biding their time.”

“For what?”

Muriel didn’t answer immediately, all she said was, “We have much work to do this summer to prepare you for what’s to come. You’re bright, which helps.”

“Thank you for that lovely compliment.”

“No cheekiness, my dear. Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit. If you don’t wish to be eaten by the snakes, you’ll need to become the lioness you were born to be.”

“If I agree to this...and that’s a big ‘_if_’ at this point; then I require something of value in return.”

Muriel smirked, clearly pleased in spite of being blackmailed.

“And that would _be?”_

“Harry. I request that Harry come with me to Fosgate Hall. Sirius Black perished last night and Harry won’t be seventeen for another year. He can’t go back to his Muggle family; they’re abusive and _cruel_.”

“And how do you recommend I make such a thing happen? The Prewett family has no familial ties to the Potter’s that aren’t at least five generations back. The Black Family would likely have more standing. Even the Weasley family would.”

“How was my blood bound?”

“You mean was it Prewett magic, or McKinnon magic?”

Hermione nodded and Muriel smiled firmly as she considered the heiress to her house. “You girl, are going to be very interesting indeed. I can help you there.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me just yet,” Muriel huffed, “but I will have an answer for you when I pick you up from the Hogwarts Express come Saturday. Perhaps we might invite Mr. Potter to come visit with us for the summer?”

“Won’t that send a particular message?”

“_Will it?”_ Muriel chuckled as she offered her arm to her granddaughter and together they walked arm in arm back towards the Great Hall where Harry and Ron were waiting; along with several other interested parties.

“See, the vultures are circling already.” Muriel whispered to her alone, and Hermione couldn’t help but smile at the feral look in the other witch’s eye.

“Then they should be careful not to get burnt.”

The happy smile from the older witch was unprecedented.

When they moved towards Harry, Muriel nodded her head at the boy and then her Great-nephew, who was staring at them gobsmacked.

“Close you mouth, Nephew. You don’t want to invite flies in, do you?”

Ron clamped his mouth shut, while Harry grinned and Ginny snickered. There were also a few guffaws behind them, but Ron refused to turn around and acknowledge anyone.

“Hello, Aunt Muriel.”

“Ronald.” The elder witch then turned to Ginny and smiled genuinely. “Ginny dear, you’re looking well.”

“Thank you, Aunt Muriel. You are as well.”

“_Charming_ girl.” She chuffed before turning to her granddaughter. “You, my dearest; I will see you Saturday. Bring Mr. Potter with you too.” Her sharp blue eyes settled on the Boy Who Lived. “_It wasn’t a request, boy.”_

“Of course, Ma’am.” Harry murmured with a knowing gleam in his eye.

“Hmm.” Was all Muriel said before she placed a gentle kiss on her granddaughter’s forehead and then removed a necklace from her pocket and made a motion for Hermione to turn around, which the young witch did with a subtle eye roll.

Once the necklace was placed and Hermione was once again facing her, Muriel looked at it fondly. “That was given to your Father by his own Mother, and now it’s yours.”

Hermione lifted it up and saw the family crest on the necklace. “Prewett?”

“Yes.” Muriel said kindly. “I do have some items of your Mother’s and we will head to Gringotts in short order to make sure all the proper paperwork is in place. But for now, this signifies you as a member of House Prewett, as it _should’ve been from the beginning.”_

“Thank you.” Hermione said softly and Muriel just scoffed.

“Don’t thank me so soon, dearest.”

“It’s only polite to do so.”

“So it _is_.” Muriel nodded in approval before her eyes scanned over the rest of the students.

When her gaze locked onto a young man who was watching the scene closely, she smirked.

“Mr. Nott? Do I need to make the proper introductions, or are you already familiar with family?”

Theo blushed at being called out so publicly, and he noticed Hermione’s head turn towards him with a confused expression on her face, while Potter and Weasley just glared at him.

“It’s good to see you again, Aunt Muriel.”

Hermione gasped, while Ron just scoffed angrily.

“Shut it, boy!” Muriel gave her red-headed nephew a harsh look. “Theodore here, is Hermione’s cousin too. A bit more removed, but _family_ nonetheless.”

“So it’s true?” Theo asked hesitantly and Muriel nodded with a self-satisfied smile.

“It is. I am curious as to how you knew?”

“McKinnon family tree. My mother had it in her personal vault and I found it before Hogwarts started. I never put it together though, and for that I apologize, Hermione.”

Hermione’s blue eyes considered the Slytherin wizard critically for a few silent moments.

“You know about me?”

“I knew I had a cousin named Hermione Marlene Prewett. I didn’t make the connection until this morning when I saw Aunt Muriel here and your appearance changed. I feel a bit like a dunderhead for not figuring it out sooner.”

Hermione grinned and Harry chuckled, while Ron just glowered unhappily.

“I see.” Was all she could say.

“If the touching family reunions are at an end, there is packing to be done.” Severus drawled out sarcastically.

“Touching, Severus, as always. How is it that _sarcasm looks good on you?_ I’ve never seen anyone embrace it quite like you do?”

The choking coughs of stunned laughter just caused Severus to sneer more deeply. “I’ve often wondered how you weren’t sorted into Slytherin, Lady Prewett; with your razor sharp wit and caustic turn of phrase.”

“I’m sure the answer will only serve to keep you awake at night, Severus.” Muriel snarked before she turned back to her granddaughter. “I will see you _soon_. Owl me should you require anything.”

“Thank you, Grandmother.”

“You’re welcome, dearest.”

Severus walked over and offered Lady Prewett his arm, which she took with alacrity as they walked up towards the Headmaster’s office together.

“So it’s true?” Theo asked quietly again.

“_Apparently_, Nott.” Ron stated hatefully.

“Ronald!” Hermione grabbed his arm hastily. “Please don’t do this! Not today. _I’ve already lost two families,_ I won’t allow your selfishness and prejudice make me lose another.”

Hermione then stormed away, missing the harsh gaze that Harry sent Ron’s way and the confused looks from everyone else.

“Sorry, mate.” Ron whispered out in shame.

“It’s not me you’ll need to apologize to, Ron. Merlin! Can’t you just cut Hermione some slack? She’s just found out her whole life has changed irrevocably and the parents who raised her don’t remember her anymore.”

The final words were said quietly, but Theo heard them as did Ginny.

“Mione’s Muggle parent’s?”

“The breaking of the spell wiped their memories. They wouldn’t know Hermione from a stranger.”

“Shite.” Theo said sadly.

“Don’t tell me you’re all broken up about Mione losing her Muggle family, Nott?”

“Family is family, Weasley, regardless of who they are. Not all of us are blessed to have a plethora of siblings now, are we?”

“What’s that supposed to mean, Nott?”

“It means, Weasley, that Hermione is now _my family too_. Whatever problem you have with me, all I ask is you allow Hermione to make up her own mind as to whether or not she wants to get to know me.”

“And why should we trust you, Nott?” 

This question was from Harry as he placed a firm hand on his best mate’s arm and gave him another warning look.

“It’s not up to you, Potter.”

“Oh, but it _is, _Nott. Hermione is like a sister to me and something tells me that what happened today is going to have more far-reaching repercussions than Hermione can possibly fathom at this point. So, until I’m certain that you mean _my sister _no harm? You’ll just have to go through me.”

“This ain’t up to you, Potter and you’re _not_ her brother.” This came from another wizard, Marcus Flint.

“_Wanna bet on that, Flint?”_

Harry’s green gaze moved over the rest of those standing there until they settled on Malfoy, who was standing back; clearly trying hard to appear disinterested.

Harry then grabbed Ronald’s arm and left the Great Hall, missing all the looks of anger and disgust.

When everyone was gone except for a few of the Slytherins, Theo turned to Draco and said, “What did he mean by that?”

“I’m not sure.” Draco mused thoughtfully. “But if I had to hazard a guess?” Theo nodded and Draco continued, “Our resident brilliant swot just made a play for Potter to be grafted into the House of Prewett, and apparently her Grandmother is all for it.”

“Can we stop it?”

Draco considered his options before he sighed in resignation. “We could. My family has a closer affiliation with House Potter through Potter’s Grandmother Dorea Black, as does the Weasley’s and my Aunt Andromeda. As Potter is now being the lauded as the Savior of the Wizarding World twice over, he’d likely be given leave to go with whomever he wanted which thankfully, wouldn’t be my family. If I ask my Father to interfere, Hermione will know where it’s coming from and that’s not a play I want to make, Theo. So my guess? Potter’s spot on and we will come to find out sometime in the next few weeks that Harry Potter will be a member of House Prewett until he turns of age.”

“Bloody hell.” Theo groused out unhappily and Draco could see the same looks on his fellow Slytherin Wizard’s faces; many of whom were already trying to figure out how to secure an alliance with the newest Prewett Heiress.

“You’ll need to be _smart_ about this, Theo. Hermione isn’t going to allow either Pothead nor Weaselbee to interfere with anyone her Grandmother considers family. Owl your Father and inform him what’s going on, and then let him take it from here.”

Theo nodded reluctantly and then headed out directly to the owlry to send a letter home.


	7. Where Does this Leave Us?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Meeting at Malfoy Manor takes place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next installment. Hope you like it and leave a comment or kudo!

Thoros Nott had received that mornings edition of the _Daily Prophet,_ and to say he was surprised by the headline would’ve been an understatement. He hadn’t been tasked with being at the Ministry the previous evening, and it was fortuitous that he hadn’t been, as everyone excluding Lucius had either been killed or thrown back into Azkaban.

He’d figured it was time to make a house call on his fellow Death Eater.

Lucius had received two other visitors that morning: Jeremiah Crabbe and Godford Goyle, whom also, had not been part of the Ministry raid and therefore spared the fall-out from the Dark Lord’s demise.

Narcissa had stayed close, knowing that her husband wouldn’t be able to tell his fellow Death Eaters much, if anything. But she was adamant that they needed to know that Lucius’ sacrifice and subsequent vow was to protect them all from the Ministry raids that likely would have occurred, had her husband not made the deal with Dumbledore.

When Thoros entered the Senior Malfoy’s study, he was welcomed by his fellow comrades and offered a glass of firewhiskey by their host.

“I’m not in the mood for alcohol this morning, Lucius.” Thoros stated firmly, as he sat down next to Goyle Sr., who was clearly as agitated as he was. “What I’d like to know is what happened?”

Lucius sat back behind his desk, his wife standing to his right with a blank look upon her face.

“Thoros, I understand you have many questions, but I’m afraid what I can share is limited.”

Lucius then held up his right arm, and all three men saw the circular pattern around the wrist denoting an unbreakable vow.

“Why was that necessary?” Jeremiah Crabbe demanded.

Lucius glanced over to his wife, who answered the question. “To spare the other families from retribution. Once the Dark Lord fell, those who had escaped from Azkaban were sent back except for my sister, who was killed. Lucius felt this was the most expedient solution to protect your families and the remaining Death Eaters from retaliation by the Ministry.”

“So, Potter killed the Dark Lord as it was supposedly Prophesied?” Thoros questioned with a sneer.

“I’m not at liberty to discuss particulars, Thoros. But suffice to say that this mornings Prophet article was mostly accurate.”

“But not completely?” Lucius just smirked and Thoros nodded. “Where does this leave us?”

Lucius sighed as he set his hands down on his desk. “Draco contacted me last evening. The word is out in Slytherin House. Have you heard from Theodore yet?”

Thoros shook his head. “No. Should I be expecting something?”

“Yes, I would imagine you should soon.”

Sure enough, at that precise moment an owl tapped against the window and Narcissa moved over to allow it in.

“That’s Theodore’s owl.” Thoros said, as he stood up and quickly moved over to retrieve the letter attached to the owl’s talon. He took it, and the owl flew away; clearly not expecting a reply.

Thoros went and sat back down, opening the letter and reading the contents. His breathed hitched on a hiss as he perused through the letter twice more before he handed it to Lucius.

Lucius read it quickly and nodded, giving it back to Thoros.

“Is this _true?”_

“I would recommend you contact Muriel Prewett for confirmation. Something tells me she will be welcoming of re-establishing contact with family, even if it is somewhat distant.”

“The girl, I’ve heard Theodore speak of her. Gryffindor, Brightest Witch of the Age, they call her. Best friend to Harry Potter. Are you saying I should overlook the girl’s associations?”

“I’m telling you that it would be prudent of you to do so.”

“Theodore doesn’t say much here, but I’m assuming you know more.”

“As does your son.” Lucius admitted haughtily. “In the missive I received from Draco last night, speculations have already been made in regards to the new Miss Prewett and her heritage. I would discuss it with your son immediately, upon his return home. I think once you are aware of the situation, you’ll understand why I had no choice in making the vow with Dumbledore.”

Thoros sighed as he considered the other men within the room. “I will talk to Theodore. If this was truly the only way, Lucius, my family owes you a debt.”

Lucius waved his hand off. “Nonsense, Thoros. I did what was most expedient given the circumstances. Dumbledore held more cards than I’d realized, and perhaps we need to look at this as the gift it is. The Dark Lord was not the same wizard as before. His mind was severely compromised due to his long sabbatical. He was frankly, _unhinged_; and I have to wonder if it wasn’t a blessing that he was vanquished. None of us here welcomed the idea of our Heirs being branded into his service, despite our feelings on blood purity. Perhaps it is time we seek out different alternatives to accomplish our own ends.”

“Which would be?”

Lucius smirked and eyed his former comrades with a devilish gleam in his eye.

“Power.”

“In what form?”

“That will become clear soon enough, my friends. Trust me when I tell you that the death of Our Lord was written long before last night. There was simply no way he would’ve emerged victorious. None at all.”

All three men stared at each other with uneasy expressions.

“Potter couldn’t have been that powerful.” Jeremiah spat out in disgust.

“I would tend to agree with you.” Lucius replied evenly.

“And this all centers around the Prewett Heiress?”

Lucius again didn’t respond and Thoros realized that whatever had happened, it had everything to do with the Prewett family.

“I will speak with Theodore and make my overture to Muriel Prewett soon.”

“I do believe that’s wise, Thoros. Please send an owl and keep me informed as to her response.”

“I will do that, old friend.”

All three men stood and bowed to their hostess before leaving back the way they’d come. When it was just the two of them again, Lucius stood and moved towards the window—staring out into the morning light.

“Do you think they’re going to accept this new status quo, Luc?”

“They’d be fools not to, Cissa.” Lucius replied calmly. “Dumbledore carries too much sway currently. I am unsure how to counter him at this point.”

“Perhaps that isn’t the answer? He will be dead soon enough.”

Lucius grinned. “He is getting on in years, it’s true. I do believe he was grooming Potter as a protege of sorts to take up his mantle once he’d passed on.”

“And now?”

“Potter will be hailed as a hero, there is nothing for it. However, if we play this right we might well just end back on top.”

“How?”

“That, my dear wife, is in the works as we speak.”

“You’re always plotting, Luc.”

“I’m the consummate Slytherin, Cissa. You’ve always known this about me.”

Narcissa moved behind her husband and wrapped her slender arms around his waist, placing her head on her husband’s back.

“I know. It’s your very best trait.”

“Really? I thought my...”

Narcissa shushed him with a gentle squeeze. “Enough of that, husband. You don’t need me to soothe that ego of your’s anymore than I already _do_.”

Lucius chuckled deeply. “True enough.” He turned in his wife’s embrace and placed a soft kiss upon her lips. “I do believe this summer will be rather interesting.”

“I’m sure it will. A new member of the Aristocracy will have all the Pureblood families atwitter.”

“I do believe you’re correct in that assumption. I just ask, my love, that you keep an open mind.”

“About?”

“Everything. You’re far too clever not to work out the truth eventually. Trust me when I tell you, when that day comes? All will be revealed and you will understand why I did what needed to be done. The future greatness of the Malfoy family could very well rest upon that choice.”

“How long before this happens?”

“Soon, Cissa. When our son comes home, he will have much to report. He’s quite clever, our boy. Ask him to explain to you. He can speak what I cannot.”

“Does this have to do with the letter he wrote?”

“It does.”

“And if you allow me to read it you’re compromising your vow, aren’t you?”

Lucius nodded. “I would be.”

“I don’t understand? Why would Dumbledore bind you in such a way if the truth was to come out regardless.”

“Because I was the only one Marked there last night who saw _everything_, and was allowed to retain that information.”

Narcissa pondered those words and realized that Dumbledore must’ve modified the memories of the other Death Eaters. But the question that remained, was why?

“All I’m good time, my love.”

“I do understand, Luc. I can exercise patience after all.”

“You are quite _remarkable_, my wife.”


	8. Blink of an Eye

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione leave Hogwarts and heads back to London and her new life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some great comments! Thank you!

The remainder of term had flown by and it was with a tinge of relief and a lot of sadness that Hermione found herself boarding the Hogwarts Express to return to London. She couldn’t say the words ‘_returning home’_ as it didn’t necessarily feel like she had a home anymore. Logically, she knew that was untrue but in her heart, the thought of not seeing her parents again was tantamount to being stabbed in the heart with a dull spoon.

Harry remained close. He refused to let her walk around the castle alone, and both he and Ron had taken it upon themselves to be her own personal bodyguards. It was both amusing and annoying, but she could understand the reasoning behind it. 

The interested stares from many a wizard the past few days hadn’t been missed by anyone.

When Marcus Flint had tried to approach her in the library yesterday, Harry had flown off the handle and threatened to hex the blighter good and proper.

Theodore Nott had kept his distance out of respect, but Hermione could see that the quiet, studious Slytherin was in need of family too.

Theodore Nott had always been a bit of a loner.

He didn’t follow Malfoy around like a lap dog, although he’d never said more than two words to her in all the time they’d had classes together.

He wasn’t mean, just aloof and cold. 

It made her curious as to why he was that way.

As they finally left Hogsmeade station, Hermione stared out the window and sighed. Her entire life had changed in the blink of an eye. Everything was different now. She no longer looked the same, no longer had the same blood status. She was now a Pureblood and that made her feel several things simultaneously: anger, fear, disgust, relief, annoyance and finally acceptance. She knew that it would be no use fighting against the reality of her situation and Muriel Prewett seemed genuine in wanting her as family. Plus, she was willing to help with Harry’s situation, and that was an added bonus.

“Do you want anything from the trolley?”

Blue eyes lifted and met green, that were watching her with a bit of brotherly concern.

“Uhm, sugar quills would be great.”

Harry nodded and left the compartment with Ron to go find the trolley, as Ron was hungry and apparently couldn’t wait for the food to come to him.

Soon after her best friend’s had left, there was a light knock on the compartment door. Turning her head, she noticed Theo standing there looking a bit unsure. She stood up and slid it open.

“Can I help you?”

“Uhm, I just wanted to see how you were doing?”

Hermione couldn’t help but smile inwardly at how awkward Theo appeared. It was clear he didn’t have the same arrogance that many of his House suffered from.

“Do you want to come inside?”

“Are your lap dogs going to hex me if they see me in here with you?”

Hermione couldn’t help but grin, especially since Ron’s _Patronus_ was a terrier.

“It will be fine. Please, come sit down.”

Theo nodded and waited for her to sit before he took the spot across from her.

“I’m sorry about your parents.”

Hermione swallowed thickly and nodded. “Thank you.”

“I lost my mum when I was five. I know it’s not the same thing...” his voice fell away and Hermione couldn’t help but feel her heart go out to the young wizard.

“I’m sorry.”

Theo shrugged. “I just feel like an idiot for not realizing who you were sooner.”

“You’d mentioned something about that before.”

“Yeah, I have a copy of the McKinnon family tree in my family vault at Gringotts. I’d be happy to show it to you, if you’d like to see it?”

“I would very much. Thank you for that.” Hermione smiled genuinely. “I just don’t know what, if anything, my biological mother left for me?”

Theo sat back and nodded slowly. “I’d imagine there is some kind of provision set up at Gringotts for you. I figure your Grandmother will be able to help with that, but if you ever have any questions? I’d be glad to help too.”

“I’m surprised that you’d want to.”

“You mean because of my House?” Hermione nodded and Theo just chuckled. “Nah, I’m not especially close with any of my housemates. Right wankers, most of them.”

Hermione giggled in response, which caused Theo’s smile to widen. “You didn’t think I was buddies with Malfoy, did you?”

“I honestly didn’t know. I mean, I’ve never seen you talk to him much. Nor hang out with his cronies.”

“Cronies?” Theo guffawed on a cough. “Can I use that sometime?”

“Only if you give me credit.”

“_Done_.”

The two were still laughing when the compartment door opened. Harry and Ron stood in the open doorway, glaring at the Slytherin wizard who hadn’t been there when they’d left.

“Just biding your time, _eh_ Nott?”

“_Ronald_...” Hermione’s voice held a warning edge to it and both boys sighed unhappily as they reluctantly moved into the compartment and closed the door. Harry sat next to Nott, while Ron moved towards Hermione, handing her the candy she’d asked for.

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Sit down, Ron and be polite..._please_.”

Ron sighed but did as she asked, reaching into his robes and setting down several items on the bench. He and Harry passed a few things back and forth, and then Ron surprisingly offered some treats to Theo; who took a cauldron cake with a murmur of thanks.

“What were you two laughing about when we came in?” Ron asked, with a mouth full of licorice.

Hermione rolled her eyes, while Theo smirked at how uncouth the red-headed wizard was.

“We were discussing Malfoy and his cronies. Theo thought it was funny and said he’d use the moniker in the future, but I told him he’d have to give me credit.”

Harry snickered while Ron just grinned.

“I thought you and Malfoy were friends?” Harry asked quietly.

“No.” Theo responded firmly. “Draco is a prat most of the time. Don’t get me wrong, he’s my housemate and Slytherin’s take care of their own, but I tend to keep to myself. It’s just easier that way.”

“Yeah, come to think of it I’ve only ever seen you with Malfoy once.”

“Third year.”

Harry nodded. “Why is he such a git?”

Theo sighed heavily and then shrugged. “That’s not really for me to say. Look, Draco is smart and way too used to getting his own way. Always has been. But you try having Lucius Malfoy for a Father, and see how well you turn out.”

“True.” Ron mumbled as he bit into a chocolate frog.

“Does he really believe all that shite he goes on about?”

“_Language_, Ronald!”

“Sorry, Mione.”

Everyone laughed at Ron’s expense, while he just pouted petulantly.

“To answer your question, Weasley? I don’t know what Draco does or doesn’t believe. I do know that he is loyal to those he cares about.”

“He actually cares about someone other than himself?”

Theo smirked. “You’d be surprised. But I didn’t come here to talk about Draco Malfoy.”

“Why did you show up here, Nott?” Harry’s voice was laced with suspicion.

“Actually, Potter? I came to offer Hermione some help tracing her family tree should she require it.”

“And I thank you for the offer, Theo. I don’t know what if anything, of the McKinnon family was left.”

“There was an ancestral home from what I remember, but I have no idea where it’s located. My Father might know if Aunt Muriel doesn’t have that information.”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose I’ll know more soon.”

“Well, I’ll leave you three to your train ride. Thanks for sharing your treats and owl me if you need anything, Hermione.”

“Thank you again, Theo.”

“Sure.” He smirked before nodding to the wizard’s. “Potter, Weasley.” And then the Slytherin left their compartment, leaving Harry and Ron feeling a bit on edge and Hermione secretly pleased that perhaps she had another ally in all this newfound craziness that was her life now.

“You don’t trust him, do you, Mione?”

“Ron, I’m willing to _reserve judgement _only because I’ve observed Theo over the years, and he isn’t quite like the other Slytherin’s. You need to let go of this irrational hatred you have for their House. I’m not a huge fan, but I’m not going to be hateful just because they’re a bunch of poncey prejudiced gits most of the time.”

“Not anymore.” Ron groused out as he bit the head off a jelly slug.

“What?”

“They’re not going to be prejudiced against you anymore.”

“I’m still a Gryffindor, Ron. Even if my blood status has changed, I’m still me.”

“Ron’s right, Mione.” Harry interrupted lowly. “You’ll need to be extra careful around wizard’s in general from now on.”

“Why?”

Harry and Ron exchanged a look, while Hermione just glared at her two friends.

“Look, I know you don’t want to hear this yet but you have to realize that things have changed and not in the way you’re going to like.” Ron blurted out with a grimace. “Mum is going to freak when she finds out about you, but she’s also a good resource for all that Pureblood shite.”

Hermione’s heavy sigh had them both chuckling. “Ron’s spot on. Just do us both a favor and listen to your Grandmother and Molly about this. Something tells me that despite your independent nature, now that you’re a Prewett you’re going to have to learn to compromise about some of this stuff.”

“It’s just so unfair.” She whispered out unhappily. “I didn’t ask for any of this to happen.”

“But it _did_.” Harry asserted firmly. “Sirius is _gone_, and as much as I wish he was still here nothing is going to change that. Just like nothing is going to change the fact that you’re not a Granger anymore. But the one thing you do have, Mione, is that you were raised by two sets of parents who loved you. One you never got a chance to know, but they obviously loved you very much to make sure you were safe. The Granger’s loved you too. They taught you to be the brave, kind and brilliant person you are today. You can honor them by making sure their sacrifice, and that of Fabian and Marlene, wasn’t in vain. I need to honor Sirius in the same way. He deserves nothing less from me.”

Hermione immediately went over and enveloped Harry into her embrace, and they both sat there for a while just taking comfort from each other.

“When did you get so wise, Harry Potter?”

“I’m best mates with the Brightest Witch of the Age. Something was bound to rub off after all this time.”

All three were lost in mirth after that. Deciding unanimously to table the discussion about the future until they’d returned to London and couldn’t avoid it anymore.


	9. Rather Complicated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione realizes there is much more to her new life than she ever imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who’ve read, reviewed and left a kudo!

When they got off the Hogwarts Express, Muriel Prewett was waiting for them but what Hermione hadn’t prepared for was the entire Weasley clan, minus Charlie, standing on the platform too.

Harry took Hermione’s hand while Ron just followed closely with Ginny, and there was several blinding flashes of light that caused Hermione to turn her head away into Harry’s shoulder. She could tell by the way he stiffened against her, he was none too pleased with the increased scrutiny either.

“There’s a slew of reporters here.” Harry whispered into her ear. She nodded once and allowed him to maneuver her towards her Grandmother.

“That’s _enough!”_ Muriel barked at the gaggle of reports, who were all jockeying for position while trying to get the best picture.

Surprisingly, the reporters quieted instantaneously.

“I don’t know _who_ allowed you people onto this platform, but this is for students and their families..._only! _If you do not disperse immediately, I will file a formal complaint to the Wizengamot and then sue every publication! _Leave...now!”_

Hermione’s head shot up and her eyes widened in disbelief as most of the reporters grumbled, but after a few tense moments—disapparated away.

“Vultures.”

Hermione laughed genuinely as her face broke out into a pleased smile.

“That was **brilliant!”**

“Why thank you, Dearest. I’m so glad you approve.” Muriel walked over and gave her granddaughter an obvious once over. “You look tired.”

“It’s been a rough few days.”

“I’m sure it has, but things will be looking up in no time at all.” Muriel gestured over her shoulder towards the Weasley’s and Hermione could see Molly being held back by Arthur as she was clearly desirous of being part of the welcoming committee.

“I hope so.” Hermione said evenly.

“Do you all have your trunks?”

Hermione nodded as she pulled out her shrunken trunk from her jacket pocket, while Harry and Ron did the same. Ginny had to go and grab hers, so Percy offered to go with her.

“We will all be returning to Fosgate Hall. I hope you are alright with that?”

“Of course, Grandmother.”

Muriel smiled, and Hermione heard Molly gasp. When her blue eyes met the Weasley Matriarch, Hermione could see the wetness behind the older witch’s eyes. She looked for confirmation from her Grandmother and the older witch sighed heavily, but nodded her permission.

So Hermione went over and when she was just a few feet away from Ron’s mother, she said softly, “Hello, Mrs. Weasley.”

Molly put a hand over her heart and choked out a sob. “Oh, my dear! You look so much like Fabian!”

Arthur held a hand on Molly’s shoulder in support, and Hermione smiled and nodded at him as well.

“If you have photos, I would love to see them.” Hermione’s voice broke on the last part, but Molly just nodded emphatically before she moved over and opened her arms in welcome. Hermione went quickly into the other woman’s embrace and was swept up in a bone crushing hug.

“Merlin! It’s a _miracle!”_ Molly wept as she pulled back and cupped Hermione’s face in her hands.

“We should be going.” Muriel said firmly, her tone brokering no argument. “We’ve drawn a crowd.”

Hermione looked back and noticed several families openly staring at them. Theo was smiling softly, standing next to an older gentleman who looked like his Father. Malfoy was standing off to the side with his parents. In fact, there were probably ten Pureblood families all watching the scene with interest.

Muriel nodded to the elder Nott, who returned the gesture. She was then quick to envelope her granddaughter into her side as they moved down the platform towards the floo’s.

“Come along, Mr. Potter.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry grinned as he followed behind Hermione closely.

“I told you vultures would be circling.” Muriel whispered haughtily.

“So this is the new normal?”

Muriel’s smirk was telling. “Oh, this is _nothing, _child. But you’ll see that soon enough, I’m afraid.”

“_Lucky me.”_

“What did I say about sarcasm?”

“Does it count if no one but you hears it?”

Muriel chuckled and nodded. “Touché. Are you ready to go home?”

Hermione sighed and glanced over her shoulder at Harry, who just nodded in support. She smiled at him lovingly and then gave her attention back to her Grandmother.

“Were you able to find a solution to what we discussed from before?”

“Give me some credit, child! I wouldn’t have allowed Mr. Potter to come with you if I couldn’t have followed through.”

“I’ll keep that in mind for future reference.”

“Make sure you _do_,” Muriel touted imperiously, “I rather loathe having to repeat myself.”

“That’s a trait we have in common.”

“Indeed.”

Once at the floo, Muriel called out Fosgate Hall and the green flames whooshed her away. Hermione stepped into the floo and just as she was about to call out the address of her new home, her eyes caught a flash of grey staring at her with a contemplative look.

Harry, noticing her hesitation, went to her immediately.

“It’s going to be alright, Mione.”

She nodded once and then dropped the powder, calling out the address and allowed her body to be transported through the network. When she reappeared seconds later, she gasped at the opulence of the room she’d been transported to. Stepping out quickly, Hermione waited for her friend’s and family while Muriel pointed out a few of the more notable items within the room.

Once everyone was present, Muriel led her into the main drawing room and Hermione gasped at the sight before her. On the far wall, was the largest magical family tree that she’d ever seen. It was at least three times the size of the one at Grimmauld Place. She moved towards the tapestry and stared at all the lines that branched off into different directions. All of them however had an endpoint except for the final one that branched off her Father’s name. Hermione Marlene Prewett, born September 19, 1979. Hermione’s eyes followed the line from her Father and noticed Molly’s branch with Arthur and all their children.

She scrunched her face as a curious thought came to her mind.

Molly and Fabian were siblings, yet Ron called Muriel—Aunt..._which didn’t make any sense? _Wouldn’t she be their great-grandmother too? It made sense for her to call Muriel—Grandmother, but why did the Weasley children refer to her differently?

She turned to face her family and saw Muriel’s shrewd gaze fixated upon her, while Molly just looked down sheepishly. Arthur’s face was pinched and the rest of the Weasley’s seemed—_resigned_.

“I don’t understand?” She blurted out hastily.

Muriel tutted, but it was Molly who chose to answer.

“It’s rather complicated, dearie. Perhaps we could discuss it some other time?”

Seeing the discomfort on the other witch’s face, Hermione nodded and allowed her interest to focus on something else.

“This room is quite large.” She began hesitantly. “Is there a library?”

Everyone chuckled, and just like that the ice was broken. “Why yes, dearest. The Prewett’s have a rather extensive library.”

Hermione’s expression morphed to one of excitement as she asked if they could go and see it.

“Perhaps later.” 

Muriel gestured towards the sofa, ignoring her granddaughter’s pout as everyone took their seats around the room. When they were all situated, a house elf ‘_popped_’ into the room.

“Mistress?”

“Ah yes, Corky, this is the new mistress, Hermione.”

Hermione’s face pinched and her eyes flashed when both Ron and Harry grinned at her knowingly.

“Yes, Mistress. Woulds yous require tea?”

“That would be lovely, Corky. Please make sure the other house elves are informed of our newest family addition.”

“Ofs course, Mistress.”

When the elf ‘_popped_’ away, Hermione sat back with her arms folded—clearly unhappy.

Muriel, taking in the body language of her great-granddaughter scoffed soundly. “I’ve heard of your _little club_, child. Perhaps before you speak out about traditions that you are _woefully_ uninformed about, you might spend a few hours in the family library researching elves and their family magic.”

Hermione’s glare softened at the idea of new knowledge as she queried, “Family magic?”

“Hmm, yes. You have much to learn this summer, Hermione. Whilst I understand your upbringing marks you at a certain disadvantage as far as Wizarding customs are concerned, as a member of our family? I fully expect you to _educate_ yourself before you embark on any further advocacy for certain magical classes of beings.”

“That didn’t sound like a request.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.” Muriel stared firmly. “You’re an intelligent witch. Dumbledore explained as much to me. However, being well read doesn’t always compensate for practical knowledge and tradition. You will need to learn compromise.”

Hermione huffed, ignoring the grins and smirks being sent her way.

Corky ‘_popped_’ back in and served the tea with biscuits and cakes for everyone. After taking a generous sip of her tea, Hermione sighed in resignation.

“I suppose I can try.”

“I would _hope_ so.” Muriel snarked out, offering her a tea cake which Hermione took with a soft _thank you._

“You will need to learn certain basics this summer. Molly has graciously offered to attend to your tutoring as well as Andromeda Tonks.”

“Oh!” Hermione’s gaze met Molly’s and she smiled warmly. “Thank you, Molly.”

“It’s not a problem, dearie. I’m happy to help family.”

Arthur patted Molly’s hand that was shaking on her knee.

“Well, now that we’ve got that out of the way—Mr. Potter? It is my understanding that you wish to join my House?”

Everyone except for Hermione sat up in shock at the question.

“If it’s acceptable to you, Lady Prewett?”

“Apparently my great-granddaughter felt it was necessary to blackmail me to make sure that you wouldn’t have to return to your Muggle family.”

Harry and Ron laughed at that, while Fred and George snickered. Ginny’s face paled a bit and the rest of the Weasley’s were completely quiet.

Hermione looked over at everyone, her face heated by her embarrassed blush.

“Is this alright with everyone?”

Molly glanced over to her daughter, who’s expression was horrified. Hermione, noticing where Molly’s gaze had gone, could see Ginny was clearly distraught. She turned to Ron, who finally noticed his younger sister’s expression and sighed.

“Gin...”

“Leave it, Ron!” Ginny hissed but Harry, now observing the tension within the room, turned to his best mate with a questioning look.

“What am I missing, mate?”

Ron sighed again, while Ginny stood up hastily and stormed out of the room. Hermione, realizing there was clearly something she was missing, excused herself and went to follow her friend.

She found Ginny a few moments later, sitting in a smaller room that looked to be a music room of some kind.

“Ginny?”

Hermione’s face paled at the heartbreaking sob that broke from Ginny’s mouth.

“How could you do this, Hermione?”

Hermione sat down next to her friend and reached for her hand.

“I don’t know what I did, Gin? Muggleborn, remember?”

Ginny sighed as she wiped her eyes sadly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think you wouldn’t understand. You know everything.”

“Apparently not, Ginny. So please explain it to me?”

Ginny sighed deeply again and proceeded to do just that.

“In Pureblood Houses, when you graft someone in—which doesn’t really happen too often except in marriage—that person takes on all the affiliations of their new House. To bring Harry into House Prewett, you and he would be blood bonded as siblings.”

“I do know this, Muriel confirmed as much but I don’t understand why you would be so upset?”

“Because Harry once blood bonded into House Prewett would for all intents, become my first cousin as well.”

Hermione’s confusion cleared as she said, “Oh.”

“Yes..._Oh!”_ Ginny huffed, crossing her arms in agitation. “That means I can’t ever date Harry!”

Hermione sat back and watched Ginny closely, finally understanding where this temper tantrum was coming from.

“Ginny, has Harry given you any indication he likes you in that way?”

“Well, no..” Ginny said petulantly. “But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t, given time?”

“That’s true,” Hermione admitted, “but are you really going to put your own wants before Harry’s? Do you really want him to go back to the Dursley’s?”

“Of course not.” Ginny groused out unconvincingly.

“Ginny..” Hermione’s voice was patient, but her body language was starting to convey her irritation with the younger witch. “This _isn’t_ your decision to make. I’m sorry if you had expectations of Harry, but I don’t think it’s fair of you to be upset over something that may or may not ever happen. Harry’s safety is my only concern right now. I’m sorry if that seems unfair to you.”

“What do you care, Hermione? You get to have Harry as your best friend and pseudo brother, plus you have all the benefits of being a Prewett now!”

Hermione stood up angrily, glaring down at the other witch. “That’s not fair! I _lost_ my parents, the only ones I’ve ever known because my identity was hidden my entire life! Do you think I’m happy by all this? I may have been a lowly Muggleborn, but at least I got to _choose_ for myself. Now, I’m going to be relegated to all sorts of expectations I never asked for and frankly, are antiquated! But I’m not going to allow Harry to suffer anymore. He’s lost his parents, Sirius...do you really expect him to continue to suffer because of some unrequited school girl crush?”

Ginny’s face morphed into anger as she stood and glared hatefully at the older witch. “That’s harsh, Hermione!”

“Perhaps, but it’s true too. Ginny, I’m sorry—really, I am. But if you can honestly look me in the eye and tell me that you’d rather Harry suffer so you can potentially date him someday than to be safe with people who love and care for him—then I’m not convinced you’re even worthy to be in his life that way.”

Ginny’s face paled at the harsh words, and she sat back down defeated placing her hands over her face as she cried silently. Hermione stared at her for a few moments until she heard footsteps. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Arthur come into the room.

“I’ll take it from here, Hermione. For the record, I agree with your decision to help Harry. I just wish there was some other way.”

“I do too, Mr. Weasley. But I’m afraid I can’t think of one.”

“Neither can I.” Arthur stated sadly as he enveloped his crying daughter into his embrace. “Everyone is waiting back inside the drawing room. We will be along shortly.”

Hermione nodded and gave her friend one last pleading look before she headed back. Her heart went out to Ginny as she could understand somewhat how the red-headed witch felt. She’d had a crush of sorts on Ronald for years—but now, there was nothing for it. They were first cousins and despite wishing things were different, the reality couldn’t be ignored. She was a Prewett and a Pureblood.

Life really sucked sometimes.


	10. Harsh Truths

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione hears the story from Molly herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who’ve taken the time to leave a kudo or a comment!

When Hermione returned to the formal drawing room, she could feel the tension. Harry looked at her and smiled timidly, and she knew he was feeling guilty over what had happened. She silently reprimanded him by shaking her head. 

He didn’t need to feel bad for Ginny’s school-girl crush.

Muriel was just holding court, clearly unaffected by the latest family drama. It was as if she found the entire debacle distasteful and wanted no part of it. Well, that was too bad as Harry would now be family, and where the Chosen One went? 

Drama naturally followed.

Hermione smirked at that thought, as it was clearly going to only get worse now with the death of Voldemort.

“Something amusing?” Muriel asked cattily, and Hermione sighed as she went to sit back down.

“Just thinking about how drama always seems to follow Harry wherever he goes.”

Everyone chuckled at that, except for Molly—who was watching the entryway for her husband and youngest child.

“That’s true.” Fred piped in. “Harry’s always getting into it...”

“Can’t seem to help himself...” George added with a grin.

“He’s a right menace.” Fred’s expression was playful and George nodded.

“I agree. Making our baby sister cry like that.”

“She’s always been a bit obsessed.”

“Especially after he saved her life.”

“You both stop it!” Molly glared at her twins harshly. “And _leave your sister be.”_

“I really am sorry, Mrs. Weasley.” Harry said quietly. “I didn’t know.”

Molly expression was a mixture of pained and wistful as she said, “It’s not your fault, Harry dear.” She then turned to Hermione and smiled in reassurance. “I know both of you are just trying to do what’s best for Harry and I support that, as does Arthur. Ginny will just have to come to terms with it, which she will eventually.”

“Well said.” Muriel nodded with finality. “Now, perhaps it might be a good idea to show you both to your rooms. You can decorate them accordingly, the elves will be happy to help.” 

The last comment was directed at her granddaughter who just grimaced but sighed in resignation.

“Come along.”

Everyone followed Muriel up two flights of stairs onto the third level where there were several large doors located on both the east and west sides.

“The east side of the home is my set of rooms, but here on the west side both you and Mr. Potter will have the two rooms at the end of the hallway there.” Muriel waved her hand in the general direction. “Once you’ve settled, dinner will be served in the main dining room. The Full Moon is tomorrow night, so you’ll all be invited to return for the bonding ceremony out in the northern gardens near the family stones.”

And with that announcement, Muriel left them all and headed towards her rooms leaving both Harry and Hermione with the rest of the Weasley clan minus Arthur and Ginny.

“Perhaps you might like to see your rooms?” Molly offered kindly and Hermione nodded, allowing Ron’s mother to open the door to the right and they all followed her into the large room.

Hermione gasped softly at how open and bright the room was. It was clearly quadruple the size of her room back home. She sighed in pained understanding that this was her home now. She would never be able to see her parents again...at least not in the ways she wished to.

Harry walked over and gave her a reassuringly smile, which she returned gratefully.

If this was going to be her new life, at least she had Harry to help her through it. He genuinely seemed happy to be here, and whatever her own feelings on the subject? 

At least Harry no longer had to go to the Dursley’s and suffer than indignation. She shuddered at the thought.

Wretched people!

“You okay?” Harry whispered and she nodded.

“Just thinking how happy I am that you don’t have to return to your Uncle and Aunt’s home anymore. I’m sure they were relieved?”

Harry chuckled, and nodded once. “Yep. Uncle Vernon was thrilled! Aunt Petunia seemed to be relieved too. Their letter was quite short and to the point. Oddly, Dudley didn’t add his two knuts in, but that’s alright. It’s not like I’m going to miss having to go there.”

“No, I don’t imagine anyone would under the same circumstances.”

Molly’s voice carried over the room as she watched them closely standing next to Bill and Percy. The twins were scavenging around, opening drawers and looking through everything. Ron just seemed a bit bemused as he stared around the room in awe.

“Did you live here once, Mrs. Weasley?”

Molly nodded and moved over next to Hermione, her expression was a mixture of nostalgia and melancholy.

“I did. I grew up here with my brother’s: Fabian and Gideon.”

“I noticed their names on the family tapestry.”

“Hmm...yes. I could see you had questions.”

Hermione shrugged while Harry just seemed confused. Glancing over at the other Weasleys, they all seemed a bit subdued.

“I don’t wish you to talk about it if it’s something that’s going to upset you,” Hermione offered, “but it’s all so new to me, I just want to make sure I understand.”

“As you should, Dear.” Molly nodded firmly and then settled them both down on a chaise, taking Hermione’s hand in her’s with a reassuring touch.

“Pureblood families are very different than what you’ve been raised to. Both you and Harry will find yourselves in certain situations that will be a bit _difficult_ to comprehend. You both must _understand_, that whatever your opinions of the Wizarding Aristocracy, it has been this way for nearly a thousand years. The Prewett family hails from the lineage of the now extinct Peverell family. As such, our family’s history spans nearly eight centuries here in Britain. The Prewett family’s history is nearly as storied as the Black’s, Malfoy’s and Nott’s...who are the only other families that have older standing. The Lestranges, Bulstrodes, McMillians and the Longbottoms came centuries later.”

“They are all Sacred 28?”

Molly nodded. “Yes, they are. As you’re probably aware, son’s are expected in Pureblood Houses, but twins are rare. Multiple son’s, even rarer. The Weasley family has always been prolific, but as a result...much of its former wealth was entitled away over the centuries. In most families within the Sacred 28, the primary wealth and titles stays with the eldest son. But in the case of Arthur’s family, the wealth was dispersed and frittered away until there was nothing much of note when it came to offering a dowry for the hand of a witch.”

“That seems archaic.” Hermione spoke haltingly and Molly just smiled sadly at the young witch.

“I’m sure it does to you, dearie, but it’s how things have _always_ been done. As I was saying...Son’s are expected, but daughter’s are rare and _treasured_. Not many families within the Sacred 28, give birth to daughters. The Malfoy family, for example...the last daughter born to their House was over six centuries ago. The Nott’s? Four centuries. The Black’s have always had an even number of witches and wizards...but because of that boon, they’ve suffered other hardships.”

“Insanity.” Harry bit out, and Molly sighed in agreement.

“And the Prewett’s?” Hermione asked warily.

“I was the first daughter born into the Prewett line in over 200 years. As such, I had many offers for my hand in marriage. But I fell in love with Arthur, and discounted my family’s wishes by marrying him. My parents would’ve never disowned me, but they had been in contract negotiations with another family and the fall-out from that had been rather embarrassing for them. In retrospect, I hadn’t thought much beyond my own love for Arthur. But as a result, I lost proper standing within my own House. My children will never been seen as part of the direct line. That is why they call Muriel by the title of _Aunt_ and not Grandmother. It’s due to _my choice_ that they’ve been relegated as such.”

Harry looked outraged while Hermione just grabbed Molly and pulled her into a fierce embrace.

“I’m so sorry, Molly.”

The Weasley Matriarch sniffled as a few tears leaked from her eyes, but she pulled back and gave Hermione a watery smile.

“Don’t be. I love Arthur and will _never_ regret marrying him. To this day, I did what I’d thought best for my future and my family and I’d do it all over again.”

Hermione nodded, deep in thought but it was Harry who asked the question that was foremost in her mind.

“Who was the Wizard your family wished to betroth you to?”

Molly sighed again, and a glance over at her brood let her know they were just as curious as she’d never told anyone other than Arthur who the wizard had been. 

Even the wizard’s family had denied the rumors, when it had been whispered in certain circles.

“The Lestrange Family.”

Harry cringed and Hermione gasped. “Rodolphus?”

Molly nodded and her children just looked down in discomfort at their Mother’s pain.

“Is _that_ why he ended up with Bellatrix?”

Molly nodded again. “Andromeda wasn’t of age yet and Bellatrix had graduated Hogwarts the year prior. I was told that Rodolphus demanded to be given Meda, but the Black Family had no other offers for Bellatrix and had insisted she be married off first. They were going to contract Meda out to Rabastan, but she ran off with Ted Tonks before that could happen.”

“And was blasted off the family tree.” Harry groused out angrily as he folded his arms in disgust.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Molly grimaced and then gave her sole attention to Hermione. “It is also why Muriel will _never_ seek to sell you off to the highest bidder. She can’t afford to lose another daughter for House Prewett, especially one as powerful as you, dearie.”

Hermione sighed and then looked up towards her cousins who were all watching her with confused expressions.

“They don’t know?”

Molly turned towards her children and shook her head. “They _suspect_, as do I. Most of those within the Pureblood Aristocracy will as well. Your appearance changing as it did, there are only very few exceptions to how such a thing might’ve occurred. I would imagine, most of those on the Platform today already suspect the truth.”

“Lovely.” Hermione deadpanned as she sat back on the chaise with her arms folded. “I’m going to be some side show circus freak.”

“Nonsense, dearie!” Molly admonished. “You are a Sorceress. There hasn’t been a true elemental in over six centuries. I suppose what makes you even more rare is that your powers manifested without the anchor of an ancillary.”

Hermione gazed at Harry who look just as perplexed as she did. “Ancillary?”

“Oh yes!” Molly gushed. “An ancillary is a grounding force for an elemental witch or wizard. Although much isn’t known on how a Sorceress chooses her ancillary but it hasn’t seemed to be a hindrance for you not to have one. Your Magic’s been stable?”

Hermione shrugged. “I suppose so? I mean, it was really off all this past year and then the curse from Dolohov happened in the Department of Mysteries. He left me for dead, and I can’t really explain it. It was like a force took over my body and I healed myself. I don’t even have a wand anymore.”

“What?”

“How is that possible?”

“_Wicked!”_

The last comment was from Fred and George simultaneously, and Molly just shushed them both.

“That is _highly_ unusual. What happened to it?”

“When I transformed, it disintegrated.”

“And you can still do magic?”

Hermione nodded as she held out her hand and _petrified_ Fred instantly. She then waved her hand again and George was levitated into the air, his shouts of glee causing everyone to chuckle.

“That’s impressive.” Bill said, as he looked up at his younger brother with a mischievous grin on his face.

Hermione waved her hand again and both Fred and George were released from their subsequent spells.

Molly just tutted in astonishment, while everyone else stared at Hermione in awe.

“Well...Perhaps it might be a good idea to confer with Dumbledore on this.”

Molly’s suggestion was met with another shrug from Hermione. She didn’t want to negate Molly’s idea, but based on how Muriel had reacted to the Headmaster, Hermione figured it would be highly unlikely that they would be conferring with Dumbledore on anything.

“I’ll discuss it with Muriel.”

Molly smiled and nodded in understanding. “We should go and let you both settle in. We will be back tomorrow evening however but feel free to owl should you need anything.”

Hermione pulled Molly into another hug and thanked her. Harry got a fond pat on the cheek for his trouble and the rest of the Weasley’s left, sans Ron.

Once they were gone, Ron came over and took one side next to Hermione while Harry took up the other. The three of them sat in silence for a while before Harry spoke up.

“Something tells me we’re missing something vitally important.”

Ron nodded while Hermione sighed in defeat. 

She really hated it when Harry was right.


	11. His Own Sake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco has a chat with his parents back at Malfoy Manor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who’ve left some love!

While Hermione and Harry were getting situated at Fosgate Hall, another meeting was brewing not too far away at Malfoy Manor. Lucius and Narcissa had made the journey to Kings Cross to pick up their son, but Lucius was more interested in witnessing the dynamic between the newest member of the Prewett family and her Grandmother. Draco had forewarned him in an owl yesterday, that Harry Potter would likely be attending the Prewett Heiress and he was right. 

Potter had left with Muriel Prewett, returning to Fosgate Hall.

It would seem that the Boy Who Lived was going to become an honorary member of House Prewett until he became of age in a years time.

Lucius had closely watched Hermione Prewett, and she seemed rather irritated at being the center of attention. He had also been a bit surprised by the amount of Pureblood families that had found themselves on the Platform that afternoon. Lucius could well understand Thoros Nott being there, as Theodore was distantly related to the Prewett’s through marriage.

But the other interested bystanders had given Lucius pause.

The Pucey’s, Flint’s, Avery’s, Zabini and his mother, Crabbe’s, Goyle’s, Vaisey’s and Bletchley’s were to be expected due to Draco’s letter—as most of the notable families within Slytherin would be curious. What Lucius hadn’t necessarily accounted for was the presence of the MacMillan, McLaggen, Rosier and Smith patriarchs.

It would seem that the speculation on the newest member of the Sacred 28 was already making the rounds within certain circles.

When they returned home, Lucius guided his wife and son into his study and called for one of the house elves to bring them some tea. Once everything was situated the interrogation began.

“Father, why was the letter you sent to me so ambiguous?”

Lucius sighed and then held up his hand where the marking of the vow was noticeable, and he could see his son’s quizzical expression.

“I’m not sure I understand.”

Lucius gestured to his wife, who was quick to offer an explanation.

“Your Father made an unbreakable vow with Dumbledore. Whatever transpired the evening of the Ministry break in, has been hushed. My sister was killed in the skirmish. All the other Death Eaters were _obliviated_ and sent back to Azkaban. Your Father was allowed to retain his memory, but the vow precludes him from speaking about what happened.”

Draco nodded, thinking of everything he’d surmised from that night.

“I’m going to assume based upon the letter I sent and your reaction, that I was correct?”

Lucius didn’t respond and Draco nodded again in understanding. He then looked to his mother, who clearly was waiting for something.

“The night I sent Father the owl?” Narcissa nodded and gestures for her son to continue, “I ran into Potter and Hermione Granger coming back from somewhere, but I didn’t know it was her at first. As you could see from today, her entire appearance has changed. When I went back to Slytherin, we were able to piece together what likely happened. Granger somehow, was placed under a long term glamour which could’ve only remained in place this long by blood magic. Severus had confessed to Hermione when she’d asked him, that she was a Prewett. It wasn’t unreasonable to assume that her glamour had been broken by elemental magic. Which would make Hermione Prewett a Sorceress.”

Narcissa side-eyed her husband, who’s own expression was calm and collected except for the hint of a smirk that teased along his lips.

“Alright, My Dragon. Let’s assume this to be correct. How would that have manifested?”

Draco gave his mother a quirked eyebrow, while Narcissa just tutted at her son fondly.

“Draco, something would’ve had to _trigger_ that kind of magic expressing itself. It couldn’t have happened without a catalyst.”

Draco glanced over to his Father, who was staring out the window deep in thought.

Miss Prewett hadn’t been with the other children at the height of the attack, which meant she’d been elsewhere.

Did she run into one of the other Death Eaters, and if so...whom?

Was she cursed?   
  
Near death when her powers had started to manifest?

Lucius decided to choose his words carefully. “There was much happening but even so, I wasn’t _privy_ to everything.”

Both Narcissa and Draco pondered upon that for a moment.

“Would Uncle Severus know?”

Lucius did smirk in full then. He had no doubt Severus knew more than he’d let on, as his oldest friend was quite adept at holding things close to the vest.

“It’s possible.”

“If Miss Prewett really is a Sorceress, then it would make sense as to why she was hidden away.” Narcissa offered thoughtfully. “Perhaps there was another Prophecy of some kind?”

“That was my thought as well.” Lucius drawled out arrogantly.

“Do you think Dumbledore has known all this time?”

“I wouldn’t put it past the man to have known about this and kept it hidden until just the right opportunity. But if I know Muriel Prewett at all, she won’t allow the old fool to hold any sway over her Granddaughter.”

“And it’s unlikely she will be accepting of betrothal contracts either.” Narcissa stated firmly. “Not after what happened with Molly Prewett marrying Arthur Weasley.”

Draco’s eyes widened and he smirked at this new piece of gossip.

“And just what are you talking about Mother?”

Taking a demure sip of her tea, Narcissa contemplated just how honest she wanted to be about this situation. While she trusted her Dragon, she also knew how impetuous he could be when properly aggravated. It wouldn’t bode well for something of this delicate nature to be inadvertently spoken about out of hand.

“If I tell you, Draco, you would need to understand the seriousness of it,” At her son’s look of incredulity, Narcissa plowed forward, “and not use this knowledge in a fit of pique.”

Draco scoffed. “Mother, I would hope you know that I can be discreet if required.”

Narcisa’s expression was clearly unamused as she glared at her son, who’s body shrunk back from the silent rebuke.

“You have my word, Mother.”

“Excellent.” Narcissa cooed and Lucius just gave his son an indulgent look. “Now, let’s see...”

So Narcissa shared with Draco the story of Molly Prewett, and how she had disregarded her family’s wishes and married Arthur Weasley when they were actively arranging a betrothal with Rodolphus Lestrange.

“As you can well imagine, such a thing was heavily frowned upon. The Prewett family would’ve never disowned Molly, as Andromeda had been some years later. But they simply couldn’t stand by and do nothing as honor dictated that Molly suffer censure for her blatant disregard.”

“So Molly lost standing within her own House?”

“After a fashion.” Narcissa continued on, “Her children I believe, call Muriel by _Aunt_. Even though she is technically Molly’s Grandmother and now Miss Prewett’s Great-Grandmother; Molly’s children are not allowed to refer to Muriel as such. If it hadn’t been for the timely return of the young Prewett Heiress, the family would have ceased to exist in all actuality, with the death of Muriel.”

“What of the McKinnon family?” Draco inquired curiously.

“Ah, now that is a bit more of an unknown. No one knows to my knowledge, where the family Manor resides. I do believe it is likely under a _Fidelius_, to have remained hidden for so long. The McKinnon family were killed elsewhere from my understanding?”

Lucius nodded. “That much I can confirm.”

“Do you know who killed the family, Father?”

Lucius sighed heavily, and it was a few minutes before he spoke.

“I wasn’t originally tasked to take part in the massacre, and I didn’t even know anything about it until after the fact. From what I was told sometime later, Marlene’s younger brother Marcus, had left the safety of their hideout and was found by another wizard whom they trusted. That wizard told the Dark Lord where they were located. I found out about their deaths in the Prophet along with everyone else.”

“And if you’d _known?” _Draco asked hesitantly, not exactly sure why he’d asked.

His Father’s silver eyes bored into his and for a moment Draco could’ve sworn he saw a tinge of remorse and regret.

“Draco, you must _understand_ that one simply didn’t say ‘_no_’ to the Dark Lord. My Father was a staunch supporter of his former classmate and as such, it didn’t leave myself much leeway when dealing with his _whims_. The loss of the Prewett twins, the McKinnons, not to mention many other good witches and wizards wasn’t lost upon me. But there were those, Bellatrix and Rodolphus included, that would’ve disposed of anyone who got in the way of the Dark Lord. The reason I chose to go to the Ministry that night was fairly simple. I didn’t wish to see children be killed. I may not have any use for the Potter brat, nor any of his friends...but what happened that night I had not anticipated nor foreseen. If I had, I’d like to think I’d have made a more informed choice.”

“Are you sad he’s gone?”

Lucius shook his head. “No. The future that would have awaited you had the Dark Lord prevailed, is one I don’t wish to think upon.”

Draco nodded and then looked to his mother, who was the perfect picture of stoic resolve.

“What about you, Mum?”

Narcissa’s brow furrowed as she considered her son’s question.

“I am unhappy to lose my sister, but sadly...she was lost to me years ago. I just want you to have a good life, my Dragon...not to be weighed down with life and death choices based upon decisions that were made before you were even born. I was unsure as to how long we might have spared you from joining the Dark Lord’s ranks, but now that he is dead, the point is moot.”

“I thought it would be an honor to serve him,” Draco began hesitantly, “but I can’t say I’m sad that he’s gone. Even I could see that he wasn’t rational.”

“No, he wasn’t. The man before his supposed demise was rather charismatic and charming. His darker tendencies saved for only his most loyal followers. His power was undeniable.”

“And yet he was killed by a sixteen year old witch.” Draco deadpanned.

“You believe that Miss Prewett killed the Dark Lord?” Narcissa queried of her son and he nodded in response.

“I do. Potter wouldn’t..couldn’t been powerful enough to defeat him on his own.”

Narcissa turned towards her husband, who’s expression was once again a mask of feigned politeness, and she knew instinctively that Draco was right.

“That’s very _interesting_.” Was all Narcissa said.

“I can well imagine that the competition for Miss Prewett’s hand will be fierce.” Lucius drawled out lowly as he stood and went to grab something stronger to drink, but his son’s chuckle had him stopping in his tracks. “You find that _amusing_, Draco?”

Draco’s eyes shot up to his Father’s, which were cold and questioning.

“Sorry, Father, but yes...I do find that piece of information rather funny. I may not have been on friendly terms with Hermione Granger, but I’d like to think I know a thing or two about the witch through casual observation.”

“And just what have you _learned?” _Lucius replied, pouring himself a firewhiskey and taking a small, measured sip as he eyed his son ever the rim of the glass.

“Hermione Granger spent some time this past school year creating a club to promote elvish rights. I believe she called it SPEW...the Society for the Promotion of Elvish Welfare or some other such rubbish. She’s a _bleeding heart_ when it comes to equality and fair-mindedness for Magical creatures, but she also has a rather interesting vindictive streak. Apparently, rumor had it that she placed a rather nasty hex on an enchanted parchment that permanently scarred Marietta Edgecombe. The witch outed Potter’s little defense club to Umbridge, and was soundly hexed for doing so. I don’t believe such a witch is going to be welcoming of any heavy handed overtures in regards to courtship. She will hex _first_ and apologize after.”

Lucius sat down stunned, while Narcissa just smiled demurely. 

It would seem the young witch was a study in contradictions.

As he pondered his son’s words, Lucius took another sip and observed Draco. He had clearly kept a rather close watch on Potter’s little band of rabble-rousers, including Miss Prewett.

“A question, Draco?”

“Of course, Father.”

“Miss Prewett? Was your interest in her activities due to her closeness with Potter, or did it stem from some other curiosity?”

Draco’s blush gave him away in that moment and Lucius couldn’t help but be secretly pleased by this unexpected turn of events. While he and Narcissa had an arranged marriage, he was rather loathe to foist that upon his only son. He and his wife had grown to love each other, but the early years had been challenging until they’d found their way. As a result, Lucius hadn’t pursued any betrothal contracts for his son despite repeated interest from several families.

It would seem his caution was _fortuitous_.

“I see.” Was all he said, but a quick glance at his wife confirmed his own thoughts on the subject.

He wouldn’t need to steer Draco towards the Prewett Heiress. His son would take up that mantle completely for his own sake. Draco would definitely have his work cut out for him, as the bad blood between his son and the Potter, Weasley and the former Granger girl had been considerable. But his son was a Slytherin and a Malfoy.

If Draco had truly been paying the kind of attention to Miss Prewett that his ‘_casual_’ observations would indicate, then Lucius had no doubt that his Heir would be successful in wooing said witch all on his own.


	12. Blood Brother

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is grafted into House Prewett.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely reviews!

The following evening after dinner with the entire Weasley Clan at Fosgate Hall, Hermione was relieved to see that Ginny seemed in better spirits. She and Harry had briefly discussed yesterday’s drama after everyone had left the previous evening and both of them had decided that they weren’t going to own Ginny’s issues.

Either she’d get over it or she wouldn’t.

Dinner had been a rather quiet, solemn affair, and it appeared to Hermione that the Weasley’s were a bit more subdued around Muriel in general. Even Fred and George, who usually were irreverent and boisterous...seemed to understand the seriousness of the occasion.

Frankly, it was _disconcerting_.

Harry was understandably nervous too. He would now have an official Wizarding family behind him and would no longer be perceived as an orphan. Well, at least until he turned seventeen. But Hermione had always known how much Harry had craved family, and wished more than anything that his parents were still alive. Now that Sirius was gone, this was the next best thing and her best friend and pseudo brother seemed grateful, even if he didn’t understand all the ramifications as of yet.

Hermione didn’t either.

Earlier that morning Muriel had received several owls from noted Pureblood families. Most had been set aside, but there was one she’d immediately responded to. When Hermione had inquired as to the sender, her Grandmother said it was a ‘_family_ _matter_’ and then said no more on the subject.

Hermione has taken the not so subtle hint and had not asked about it again.

Several things had happened over the past few days, but the most notable was the resignation of Minister Cornelius Fudge from his position as Minister for Magic. That news tidbit had been splashed across the front page of the Prophet, along with a lively blurb on Delores Umbridge’s rescue from the centaurs. She was immediately sent to Azkaban, awaiting trial for the atrocities she’d perpetuated at Hogwarts this past year, and both Harry and Hermione were going to be called to testify in the upcoming weeks.

As the Weasley’s made their way out of the dining hall and along the outer hallway, Hermione followed with her Grandmother—who seemed a bit less vocal than Hermione had seen her so far.

“Are you alright, Grandmother?”

Muriel gave her granddaughter a side eye and nodded. “I am. I suppose I was just reflecting a bit. There was a time I had wondered if this day would ever come, and now that it’s here and you’re home where you belong—I feel both grateful and melancholy.”

“I can understand that. I feel very much the same way.”

“You miss your parents.”

“The Grangers.” Hermione admitted softly. “Not that I’m not happy to be here with you and Harry, but it all seems too surreal. I keep thinking I’m going to wake up and find out this has all been some bizarre dream.”

Muriel chuckled and her smile was a bit condescending as she nodded in reply. “I suppose that is to be _expected_, but rest assured, Granddaughter, this _is_ your home and where you belong. I wish I knew what your Father and Mother had been thinking, squirreling you away like they did.”

The sigh that fell from Hermione’s lips couldn’t be helped as she was loathe to ask the question, but needed to nonetheless.

“Dumbledore mentioned a Prophecy?”

Muriel’s face darkened perceptively. “I’m sure the old coot did. Regardless of that, dearest, it doesn’t change the fact that you were _taken from your rightful family_. I must commend you for the strength and fortitude you’ve shown these past five years at school. It is my understanding, that you were taunted quite often for your upbringing?”

That was a polite way of saying, ‘_bullied for being a mudblood._’ 

Hermione shook that thought away as it simply didn’t apply to her anymore. Despite being raised in the Muggle World, she was now a Prewett and a member of the Sacred 28. Whining about the loss of her freedoms wouldn’t ingratiate herself to her Grandmother at all.

“Yes. Some worse than others.”

Muriel smirked. “The Malfoy Heir can be a particularly _insensitive_ git when properly provoked, and even when not. His upbringing was such that he’s never had to associate with Muggles nor Muggleborns. In fact, you’ll find that most Pureblood families don’t venture into the Muggle World at all. Arthur and his family are more tolerant than most, but even then, dearest...I doubt you would find any of them marrying a Muggleborn, much less a Muggle.”

“Really?” Hermione whispered in shock, her face falling at that comment.

“Yes.” Muriel turned to her Granddaughter, who was clearly distressed. “Half-bloods would be another issue, but it’s difficult for those who’ve been raised to this all their lives, to understand or even accept that which they don’t know. It doesn’t excuse bigotry nor hatred. Such things are unnecessary and frankly, déclassé. But many of those within the Sacred 28, and outside of it tend to feel that Muggleborns expose a immediate risk to our world that can’t simply be overlooked.”

“And what would you recommend?”

Muriel took her arm, and the two continued to walk together towards the family stones on the outer part of the property.

“I am unsure I have answers that would appease you, Hermione. Dumbledore, for all his influence and _perceived_ tolerance, is fairly resolute in his own sense of self-righteousness. The Wizengamot is full of old, stodgy men who on a good day are the epitome of misogynistic twats and can’t seem to get out of their own way. Tell me? How did you feel when you got to Hogwarts and found out there was this entire world you’d been robbed of knowing, until you were eleven years old?”

Hermione pondered the question and realized her Grandmother made an excellent point. 

When her magic expressed as a child, it was confusing for both herself and her parents...the Granger’s...as they’d had no idea what was happening. Years later, they’d openly discussed it rationally, but her parents were good, loving people who’d loved her...or so she’d thought.

Not at all like Harry’s Aunt and Uncle.

Hermione shivered at that depressing thought.

“I’m not so ignorant to realize that all Muggles are good. There are some truly heinous people out there in the world.”

Muriel nodded in agreement. “That there is. If history teaches us anything however, it’s that Muggles _fear_ what they don’t understand and what they can’t control. The Druids were persecuted, and then there were the Witch trials that lasted seventy years here in Europe during the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Just before the Statute of Secrecy was put into effect. Cause and effect, dearest. You can’t blame witches and wizards for holding onto those traditions that make them feel safe. What you can blame them for, is how they go about doing so.”

“Prejudice is everywhere.” Hermione finally admitted with a sad sigh.

“It _is_.” Muriel then smiled genuinely at her Granddaughter. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t try to leave the world a better place than how we found it. You will have that chance, dearest. You are strong and good...the best parts of both your parents. Fabian was a champion of those who couldn’t fight for themselves; who didn’t have a voice. Marlene was quite the cunning witch in many ways but she was also very kind. To everyone she met, regardless of their background. She and Harry’s mother Lily, were the best of friends at Hogwarts.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes.” Muriel grinned. “Marlene even dated Sirius Black for a brief period of time during their mutual sixth year. But Sirius was quite the rebel and didn’t take anything very..._seriously_.”

Hermione giggled at the look on her Grandmother’s face, which was simply playful.

“Sirius was one of a kind.”

“Yes, he was. It’s sad he didn’t make it through, but he was always reckless in that respect. If he hadn’t been, he might’ve been the one to raise Harry and not the Muggle family he was left with.”

Hermione nodded. “I know Sirius regretted that deeply.”

“I’m sure he did.”

They had finally made their way to the family stones and Hermione was impressed with the site. It sat along an outcropping of trees that led to a small forested area. To the east was a large open field and to the west was a picturesque lake that adorned the properties furthest border. The full moon was glistening off the water, bathing the surrounding area in an ethereal visage of shadow and moonlight.

Harry moved forward into the semi circle where the stones resided, walking towards a rock altar that looked to be glistening in the moonlight. When Hermione followed, she gasped at how she could see her reflection in the translucent stone.

“What kind of stone is that?”

Muriel walked forward and placed her hand on the smooth surface, feeling the magic radiating from the stone.

“This is Rose Quartz. As far as I’m aware, the largest piece of it ever found. An ancestor about 600 years ago fabricated it and blessed it. As you’re probably aware, dearest—love potions including Amortentia, use rose quartz as a primary ingredient. This stone here was enchanted so that a Prewett would always find his or her true match. It’s the love of family that has kept our line strong over the centuries.”

Hermione glanced over at Molly, who had taken Arthur’s hand within her’s. Now she understood a bit better why her grandparents hadn’t disowned Molly. She had followed her heart, regardless of tradition.

“I’m confused.”

Muriel saw where her Granddaughter’s gaze had gone and she sighed, understanding the unspoken question.

“Usually, a Prewett Patriarch considers many things when arranging a marriage for his children. Molly’s Father, my son...Ignatius...was a good husband to his wife Audrey, but he was an _exceedingly_ proud wizard and felt he knew best. He was determined to make an advantageous match for Molly. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out the way he’d intended, and as a result, Molly followed her heart and Ignatius was shamed. The compromise reached, you may think unfair, dearest...but traditions such as those must be respected and honored.”

“That hardly seems right.” Hermione whispered in pained understanding.

“Yes,” Muriel stated firmly, “which is why I will _never_ seek out a betrothal contract for you, Hermione...until you’ve chosen a mate. You will be free to choose your own destiny in that regard.”

Hermione’s blue eyes caught Molly’s and the older witch smiled shakily and nodded proudly. She returned the look with a small nod of her own.

Muriel waved everyone to form a circle around the altar, while Harry moved over to Muriel’s left and Hermione to the right. The older witch then set down a small wrapped bundle that she’d taken from her robes and placed in onto the altar. When she opened it, there were two silver bowls that had runes etched on the outer surface for family, harmony, protection and life engraved upon them. A silver knife was laid next to the bowls. A small bottle of rose water was then set upon the surface, its strong fragrance flowing into the air. Several candles were placed in a circle around the bowl. One for each direction: North, South, East and West. There was another smaller bottle that contained lavender oil infused with sage for protection. The last items were another larger bowl which contained basil, rose hips, anise seeds, a single bay leaf, a spring of lavender, grain of paradise, meadowsweet, and turmeric. Muriel took the small pestle and ground up the herbs until they were a fine substance...then she took the knife and cut her finger, placing a single drop into the large bowl and waving her wand three times counter clockwise while she chanted slowly—_Praecipimus, ut famili Prewett._ The rose quartz altar began to hum and vibrate with magical energy as she continued to grind the substance again and repeating the steps thrice. She then took Harry’s right index finger and added a drop of his blood to the mixture...repeating the steps thrice all the while waving her wand and chanting.

Hermione’s eyes widened as the altar hummed with raw magic and the smell of roses filtered through the air around everyone. Muriel took the oil and anointed Harry’s forehead, eyes, mouth, heart and hands before adding the rose water to the mixture and then placing half into one bowl and the other half into the second.

She handed Harry the first bowl and waved her wand in a large counter-clockwise sweep before saying one last time—_**Praecipimus, ut famili Prewett. Uno animo, una mens, una famili. Deus pascit magicae.**_

Harry drank from his bowl and then Muriel from her’s—the magic of the land swelled up to meet them both while Hermione felt her whole body thrum with vitality and power. Her eyes flashed, and flames licked over her hair and skin...causing everyone around the circle to gasp in wonder at the sight.

Muriel turned to her Granddaughter and smiled as the evidence of her power manifested here, on consecrated Prewett land—bearing witness to the elemental power of her magic.

Soon the flames engulfed Muriel, Harry and Hermione while the Weasley family just gaped openly in awe. 

After a few moments the flames disappeared, and surprisingly no one looked worse for wear. The altar hummed brightly for another minute before it too, darkened once again.

“Merlin’s beard!” Fred whispered in shock, as he stared at Hermione.

“Wicked!” George grinned manically, but Molly quickly hushed them both. Her blue eyes caught her niece’s and she smiled lovingly at the young girl.

An elemental witch!

A Sorceress!

It was truly something to behold and a tremendous boon for House Prewett.

Everyone was quiet for several moments before Muriel cleared her throat. “It would seem that young Mr. Potter is now an honorary member of House Prewett. I do believe this night has been most fortuitous indeed.”

With another wave of her wand, the items for the ritual enveloped neatly into the small parcel and then she placed into her robes.

The precession went back inside Fosgate Hall, where the family would remain for the next few days enjoying the bounty of tonight’s blessings upon the land.

_The greatness of House Prewett would stand tall once again._


	13. Breakfast and Gringotts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next morning arrives and Hermione has to deal with the fallout of her new heritage, in public no less.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the interest in this story! I appreciate all the kind words and kudos!  
Long chapter ahead!

The next morning when Hermione woke up, she felt more rested than she’d been in...well, _forever_. 

Her magic seemed settled and happy, which was curious as she’d never really noticed until just this past year that her magic could feel off.

Stretching her body carefully, Hermione hummed as she turned onto her side and stared out the window that had been left open from the night before. Sometime around 2am, she and Harry had finally found their way back to their respective bedrooms as had the rest of the Weasley’s, who were staying in various guest rooms up on the third floor.

Moving out of bed, Hermione paddled over to the window and stared out onto the grounds and gasped in wonder at the sight before her. 

All the flowers, trees, shrubs and grasses were in full bloom..._it looked like something out of a fairytale wonderland._

She had never seen anything quite so beautiful in all her life.

Rushing into her ensuite, she took a quick shower and got dressed in a pair of Muggle jeans and an old jumper that her mum had bought for her last year. She smiled as she palmed down the cashmere fabric almost lovingly. 

It was going to be difficult not to think of the Granger’s as her parents in the traditional sense.

There were still so many unanswered questions running through her head.

She had known deep down that Richard and Helen Granger had cared for her. They’d always taken such good care of her and had been so supportive of her magic. But now, Hermione couldn’t help but wonder if the reason for that had been because they’d been bewitched to support her. She couldn’t help but second guess whether their caring had been of their own volition or someone else’s.

Shaking her head, she realized that the likelihood of straightforward answers were probably not going to be forthcoming any time soon.

It was hard to know how to feel about that.

Her Grandmother had mentioned a trip to a Diagon Alley today to pick out some ‘_appropriate_’ clothes...whatever ‘_that_’ meant. Hermione sighed as she stared down at her favorite pair of jeans, wondering just how much longer she’d get away with wearing these. It wasn’t as if the hoity-toity Pureblood witches in Slytherin would ever be caught wearing jeans.

Now there was a seriously depressing thought.

Making her way out into the hallway, she could hear voices coming from downstairs. It would seem as if the entire Weasley clan was already busy eating breakfast. Walking past an enchanted antique Grandfather clock, Hermione was a bit shocked to see it was already past nine in the morning. 

She’d really must’ve needed the extra rest.

Making her way into the dining room, she smiled at the sight before her. The entirety of the Weasley clan, including Charlie were eating breakfast—talking and joking amongst themselves. Harry was smiling genuinely for the first time since Sirius had died and Muriel seemed rather pleased with it all.

It definitely was a happy morning.

“Ah, there she is.” Muriel intoned in that way of her’s—Part propriety and equal parts exasperation.

“Good morning, Grandmother. I’m sorry I overslept.”

Muriel waved her hand in the air like it was of no consequence. “It was a late evening for us all. You do look rather rested this morning even if your choice of attire leaves something to be desired. We will need to rectify that today.”

Hermione just nodded and sat down, ignoring the snickers from Fred and George as well as the sympathetic look from Harry. Ron was too busy shoveling his face with kippers to notice much of anything.

“I noticed the gardens when I woke up this morning.” She finally offered as she plated some eggs, toast and rashers. Percy, who was sitting next to her, generously poured her a cuppa and she nodded her thanks.

“Yes,” Muriel smiled in a very satisfied way, “a natural effect of the ritual last night. Or should I say, the manifestation of your powers upon the land. Elemental magic, dearest, it has _blessed_ our lands.”

“Oh!” Hermione’s eyes widened as she glanced over at the rest of the table and noticed everyone staring at her. “Uhm, is that _normal?”_

Fred chuckled and George just grinned, but Bill was the one to speak up.

“Elemental magic is an extremely rare and treasured gift within the Magical World. The last true elemental was a Sorceress who lived hundreds of years ago. No one really knows why a Sorcerer or Sorceress is born. I’m sure you’re aware that Merlin was a Sorcerer and a gifted elemental. Usually a Sorceress will have an affinity in particular with one of the elements, but eventually may learn to control them all. You Hermione, are obviously a fire elemental. Of the four elements, Fire is the hardest to control, and the most rare. It is because it is the most powerful. Most _unpredictable_.”

Hermione inhaled a mouthful of tea, nearly choking on this new information. She coughed a few times, ignoring her Grandmother’s stern look of rebuke.

“Uhm, what is the most powerful incarnation of a fire elemental?” Hermione asked as she inwardly held her breath, already knowing the answer but needing to hear it nonetheless.

“A Phoenix. They have the power of death and rebirth. They literally can be reborn from their own ashes. Dumbledore has a Phoenix as his familiar.”

“Fawkes.” Harry piped in and Bill nodded.

“Yes.” Bill then turned to Hermione and tilted an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”

Hermione’s gaze landed back on Harry, who was watching her closely. No one other than a few members of the Order (Remus, Tonks, Moody, Kingsley and Dumbledore) had seen her transformation the night of Voldemort’s death. Dumbledore had obliviated the Death Eaters that were sent back to Azkaban, from what she’d learned just before leaving school. But the truth was, she didn’t know how many of the Aurors from that night and the Minister still had their memories of her display of power. She did know that Lucius Malfoy knew, but he was under a vow not to speak of it.

“What is it, child?”

“I think we need to invite Dumbledore here.”

Muriel sighed, clearly vexed as she said, “And that is _because?”_

She glanced at Harry again, and he nodded. “Because the night that Voldemort was killed, my powers manifested as you all might be aware. It’s the ‘_how_’ that I’m concerned with and who else might know outside the Order.”

Muriel’s expression darkened, as she immediately called for Sabbo, her personal house elf.

The small elf, in a purple tea towel with white ruffles popped into the dining room.

“You’s call, Mistress?”

“Yes, Sabbo. Find Dumbledore immediately and bring him here. _Tell him it’s not a request.”_

The elf bowed and said, “Right away, Mistress.” And the elf popped out of the room.

A few moments later another pop sounded and Sabbo was there with their Headmaster, who seemed clearly amused at being summoned like a House Elf.

“Ah, Muriel. What can I do for you?”

“Please sit, Dumbledore.” Muriel offered with a wave of her wand, clearing an additional space magically for the Headmaster. “We have questions.”

Dumbledore nodded and took a seat. He had been expecting this possibility, and his blue eyes twinkled as he considered the newest Prewett Heiress and Mr. Potter who seemed to be settling in quite nicely in their new home.

When he was situated and had a cup of tea, he smiled warmly at the Prewett Matriarch.

“What can I do for you, Muriel?”

“Cut the pleasantries, Dumbledore. You know why I’ve called you here. Let’s not mince words, shall we?”

The Headmaster sighed and nodded again. “Very well. I’ve brought my pensieve along as I’m sure you might wish to view a few things, yes?”

“Yes.” Muriel stated unequivocally. “I would also demand to know whom you’ve allowed to retain the knowledge of my Granddaughter’s transformation.”

Dumbledore’s expression didn’t change as he took a sip of his tea and then set the cup down on its matching saucer—giving him a few precious seconds to think. If he prevaricated at all and Muriel found out he’d been less than forthcoming, there was no telling what the older witch might do. She was prickly on a good day but downright vindictive if properly provoked.

“Kingsley, Remus, Tonks and Moody. They are all loyal members of the Order.”

“Loyal to _you_, you mean.” Muriel snarked. Her blue eyes showing her temper as they bored heatedly into the Headmaster. “Who else?”

“I secured an Unbreakable Vow from Lucius Malfoy, who in exchange for his cooperation was allowed to return home to his family—memories intact.”

Muriel smirked at this. Interesting and definitely something she could utilize later on.

“Who else?”

“The Aurors that witnessed the transformation have since had their memories modified by Alastair. Cornelius was done by myself, later that same evening.”

Everyone gasped and Muriel cracked a genuine smile. “You are quite the paradox, Albus, truly. I’d often wondered just _how_ honorable you’d be to the _greater good_ should it prove expedient not to be. I do believe you’ve answered that question rather convincingly.”

The light in Dumbledore’s eyes dimmed, perhaps in shame...Muriel couldn’t tell for sure.

“I’m sure as you know, Muriel, that Cornelius has a rather weak constitution and as such could not be trusted with the truth.”

“But Lucius Malfoy could?” Molly interjected sharply.

Muriel’s tutting had Molly backing off a bit, but the point was made.

“I would _tend_ to agree with Molly about this, Albus,” Muriel interjected with a nod towards her family, “That man has power and influence. I do agree that his knowledge of the inner workings of Riddle’s little empire would prove considerable. But why a Vow?”

“Lucius Malfoy is all those things you’ve mentioned, Muriel—but he is also first and foremost a Father and a husband. I have no fondness for the wizard, but he is too well connected and frankly, I wasn’t convinced he simply couldn’t buy his way out of Azkaban a second time. He has too much damning information on too many members of the Wizengamot. This choice was the lesser of the two evils and keeps him in check.”

“Yet you made that decision without consulting me, Albus!” Muriel’s expression was beyond furious at this point. “You are the children’s Headmaster, _nothing more!_ You can’t expect me to be happy with this situation and abide by your choices where my Granddaughter’s well-being is concerned. And that sentiment goes for Mr. Potter as well. He is now bound into my family. You will discuss matters with me going forward before making any future decisions—_am I to be made clear?”_

Dumbledore looked chastened but his eyes were twinkling again at how passionately Muriel seemed to be protecting her family.

“Of course, Muriel. It will be as you say.”

“_Of course it will.”_ She sniped arrogantly, before eyeing the man with interest. “I wish to see the memory of the night in question. I need to know just what we’re dealing with.”

She turned to her Granddaughter, who nodded once and then excused herself and the Headmaster from their presence. If was several minutes later before Muriel came back into the room ashen and clearly stunned by what she’d seen. She walked over to Hermione and placed a gentle kiss on top of her head before sitting back down and scanning her family, her expression one of indecision.

Her face cleared after a moment and she nodded towards Bill.

“William. You will go into my study and watch the memory. Please make yourself available to Hermione should she have any questions. Am I understood?”

Bill nodded and stood, grabbing his Mother’s proffered hand on the way out. 

Everyone was tense while Bill was gone and then when he returned with Dumbledore, it was evident that Bill was completely overwhelmed.

He cleared his throat uneasily, his blue eyes locked with Hermione’s and he smiled a bit shakily. “If you ever need me for anything, Hermione, just owl me. I’ll be happy to answer any questions I can.”

“Thank you, Bill.”

He nodded before resuming his breakfast.

Muriel gave one last look at Dumbledore and then held out her hand. “I _want_ that memory, Albus.”

The Headmaster looked taken aback, obviously surprised by the request.

“Might I ask why?”

“No, you may not. _And it’s not negotiable.”_

The two stared each other down before Dumbledore capitulated and handed over the memory in a small vial. Muriel took it firmly within her grasp and nodded her thanks. She then excused herself, leaving the room, while everyone just stared after her.

Fred grinned at the Headmaster. “She’s down right scary.”

“And intimidating.” George quipped with a smirk.

“Never seen such a thing, Forge.”

“Neither have I, Gred.”

“You two enough!” Molly whispered out harshly at her sons, who still had those manically devious grins on their faces.

Ron snickered while both Harry and Hermione stared in shock at each other.

This was turning out to be a very interesting day indeed.

After Dumbledore had said his goodbyes and made his departure, Muriel let Hermione know that they would be leaving for Diagon Alley within the hour. She was to make a list of her clothing needs, and then requested that Molly attend to that chore, as Hermione seemed reluctant to do so.

As they were walking upstairs and towards Hermione’s suite, Molly reached for her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“I know this must be very overwhelming for you, Dearie.”

Hermione just nodded, and bit her lip—unsure of how to respond without seeming ungrateful.

“Muriel is...”

Molly chuckled and opened the door for them both to Hermione’s room. “Say no more. Aunt Muriel is a force of nature. She’s stubborn, mulish, fierce, powerful and traditional. But you’ll also find her very loyal and loving too. She was a prodigy at Charms and a dab hand at Potions too, in her heyday.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. But don’t let her diminutive appearance fool you. She’s quite formidable when she needs to be.”

“Like today.”

Molly nodded. “I’d never thought there would be a day I’d second guess Albus, but he does tend to follow his own judgment and make unilateral decisions best left to others.”

“You mean family?”

“Hmm,” Molly moved over to the closet and opened it up, tutting at the lack of formal robes and proper attire. “Not to change the subject, Dearie, but you’ll simply need an entirely new wardrobe.”

Hermione groaned out unhappily. “But Ginny wears jeans and jumpers.”

“Yes, she does. But Arthur and I don’t have the kind of resources Muriel does and as much as I tend to shy away from some of the Pureblood nonsense and expectations, you won’t have that luxury, Hermione.”

She huffed and sat down on the edge of her bed, arms folded in irritation.

“But I _like_ my jeans.”

Molly walked over and sat down next to her niece, seeing that she was clearly struggling with her new place in Wizarding Society.

“Your Mum was very much that way too.”

“Marlene?”

“Yes. She was raised to it, sure enough. But she had her little rebellions here and there. Sirius was one. When they’d dated, Sirius gave Marlene a leather jacket and he talked her into getting a tattoo.”

Hermione’s blue eyes widened comically and she gasped at that. “Really? How did you find that out?”

“She showed me sometime later, when she and Fabian started formally courting. Apparently, my brother thought it was rather fetching—according to Marlene.”

“Did they love each other.”

“_Desperately_.” Molly admitted with a wistful look. “Fabian, well—all he’d ever wanted to be was an Auror. Convinced Gideon to follow him into Auror training. Our Mother was scandalized, our Father proud. The death of both of them killed our Mother. She died less than a year later. Our Father, he died not too long after her from a broken heart.”

Hermione laid her head on Molly’s shoulder and sniffled back the tears threatening to fall.

“I’m sorry, Molly. I can’t imagine how hard this has all been for you.”

“Nonsense, Dearie. I’m just so happy to have a piece of my brother returned to me through you. Fabian was such a good man—an _honorable_ wizard. It took five Death Eaters to defeat my brother’s. _Five! _The cowards that they were! They both died heroes. If Fabian were alive today, he’d be so proud of you, Hermione. Of the witch you’ve become.”

At that, tears fell unchecked down Hermione’s cheeks and Molly wrapped her tightly into her embrace as both witches sobbed for the loss of their family. 

The loss of what might have been had things been different.

“I just wish I had a chance to know him.”

Molly nodded sadly. “Perhaps we can figure something out. I’m sure we can gather a few memories from those who knew your Mother and Father best. It’s not the same but...”

“I think that would be brilliant.” Hermione breathed out on a sob.

“Good.” Molly pulled back and wiped the tears from Hermione’s face before setting herself to rights. “Let’s make that list and then go to Diagon Alley. It will be fine, you’ll see.”

“I hope you’re right, Molly. This is still so surreal for me. Maybe in time this will feel more like home...more normal.”

“It will.” Molly said in her motherly way. “But for now, if you need anything—Arthur and I are only a floo call away.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. Let’s not keep Muriel waiting.”

The two witches headed downstairs where Harry was waiting by the floo. The rest of the family was sitting around looking a bit nervously at each other, until Muriel walked in—commanding everyone’s immediate attention. She moved over towards Hermione and handed her a box.

Hermione could feel everyone’s eyes upon her, for when she opened it—her expression startled at the lovely feminine ring inside the box that had a small insignia on the top of it. It was goblin silver with rubies embedded in the band.

“What is this?”

Muriel sighed. “It is the McKinnon family ring, and was your Mother’s.”

“Oh!” Hermione took it out of the box, staring nervously at Harry who came over and nodded in approval.

“It’s pretty, Hermione.”

Hermione swallowed and handed the box to Harry for a moment as she placed the ring on her right hand, third finger. The magic within the ring accepted her and sized down slightly to fit her finger perfectly.

“Thank you, Grandmother.”

“You’re welcome, dearest. That ring will allow you to access the McKinnon family vault at Gringotts, whenever you have need. It will proclaim you the Heiress to that House to everyone who sees it.”

“How?” Molly asked quietly, thankfully relieving Hermione of having to ask the rather awkward question.

Muriel’s expression was pained for a moment before she sighed in resignation and spoke.

“Dumbledore. He found the McKinnon family with Alastair and Sirius. Sirius insisted that Marlene’s ring be saved, as it was clear that you hadn’t been in the house with the family when they’d been attacked and no one knew where you were.”

Harry’s face scrunched in confusion as he considered Muriel’s words and then shook his head.

“Padfoot must’ve known. There’s no way Sirius would’ve insisted something like that, if he hadn’t known where the child had gone.”

Everyone turned to stare at Harry, but it was his pseudo sister’s expression he was most concerned with.

“You really think Sirius knew?”

Harry shrugged. “He called you kitten, Hermione. He’d always teased you and really seemed to adore you even when you’d both argue over Kreacher.” He then faced Muriel and asked, “Did Sirius leave a will?”

Muriel’s face broke out into a considering look. “Most likely. Are you thinking there’s something there?”

“I’m thinking so. I mean, it makes the most sense.”

“Well done, Mr. Potter,” Muriel’s expression was almost pleased, “I do think I will write Dumbledore a letter when we return. My guess is that Sirius made you his Heir and if that is the case, you’ll be notified of his will reading in short order.”

Harry nodded and handed the box back to Hermione who mumbled her thanks. She placed the box into her bag and waited until everyone called out for the Leaky Cauldron and whooshed away until it was just she and Harry left.

“You really think Padfoot _knew?”_

Harry nodded. “I do. Remus might know something. We could ask him?”

“Maybe.” Hermione hesitated. “We should get going.”

Harry gestured towards the floo. “Ladies first.”

Hermione giggled and moved into the large hearth, calling out their destination and feeling the green flames pull her through. When she stepped out at the Leaky, Harry followed immediately. Luckily the pub was fairly empty, so no one was paying them too much attention.

Muriel led the way to the back wall and tapped on the stones three times, before the brick wall gave way to the hidden alley behind it.

It was rather busy, Hermione noted immediately. As she stepped through, several witches and wizards stopped and stared at she and Harry. A few nodded to Muriel, who returned the gesture but she didn’t speak to anyone. Fred and George were on either side of she and Harry while Bill, Percy and Charlie made up the rear of their group. Molly and Arthur were walking with Muriel while Ginny and Ron were directly in front of Harry and Hermione.

The group headed towards Gringotts and walked in together. Hermione didn’t notice at first who was standing by the front door, but she heard Ron snort and her head whipped up at the sound. It was then she saw Narcissa and Draco Malfoy standing with Adrian Pucey and a witch that looked an awful lot like the older wizard.

He had just finished Hogwarts this year, and he was staring directly at her.

When her gaze locked with Malfoy’s, the blonde wizard bowed his head politely but didn’t seem all that interested in their group.

“Ah, Lady Prewett.” Narcissa Malfoy nodded politely.

“Lady Malfoy. You are doing well, I hope?”

“Yes, thank you. You remember Anastasia Pucey?”

“Yes, it is good to see you again, my dear. How is Armand?”

“He is out of the country at present, doing some work for the Ministry.”

“Ah, yes. Is he still the Deputy Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports.”

At this, Ron’s ears perked up with interest.

“He is. The Quidditch World Cup is being held in Bulgaria this year, so there is much to do.”

“I would imagine that to be the case.” Muriel said politely before gesturing for Hermione to come forward. “I would be honored to introduce you both to my Granddaughter, Hermione Prewett. Hermione, this is Lady Narcissa Malfoy and Anastasia Pucey.”

Hermione inwardly sighed as she curtsied respectfully to both witches, ignoring the smug look on Malfoy’s face that she just wanted to smack right off the git.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” The words were polite enough, even if her body language was stiff and unwelcoming.

“Likewise, Miss Prewett. I understand you are at the top of your class at Hogwarts. A fine achievement and something to be very proud of.”

“Thank you, Lady Malfoy. I enjoy school and love to learn new things.”

“That’s an _understatement_.” Ron mumbled, and Harry coughed out Ron’s name in warning while the rest of the Weasley’s smiled at the quip. 

Hermione’s angry gaze landed on her best friend, who murmured softly, “Sorry, Mione.”

“Hmm.” She shook her head subtly at Ron before giving her attention back to the two ladies in front of her. Anastasia Pucey was smiling genuinely while Narcissa Malfoy had a smirk plastered upon her face. Hermione almost blanched at the expression. 

_It was a carbon copy of her son’s favorite look._

Merlin’s Beard, this was more than awkward.

“Well, if you will excuse us we must be making our way to the vaults. A bit of shopping is on the agenda for today.” Muriel interjected.

“Of course,” Narcissa replied politely, “do enjoy your afternoon.”

Muriel nodded regally before ushering her Granddaughter towards the largest desk where the Head Goblin was sitting.

He bared his teeth in a feral grin before his beady eyes locked onto Hermione.

“So this is the Prewett and McKinnon Heiress?”

“Yes, she is.” Muriel glared back with a similar expression, before lifting Hermione’s hand to show the Goblin the ring on her right hand.

The Goblin nodded and then waved them towards a corridor to the right.

“William Weasley can show you to your vaults.”

Bill nodded in agreement and gestured for everyone to follow him.

As they made their way en masse towards the carts, Hermione turned back feeling the weighted stare of Malfoy on her. She could always tell when he was silently observing her. When their eyes met one more time, he smirked and she rolled her eyes at him causing his face to break out into a genuine smile.

Godric! 

That had never happened before!

At least not in her general direction.

It was—_disconcerting_, and she couldn’t get out of there fast enough.

When she finally made her way to the cart, she got in next to her Grandmother and then Bill pulled the lever and the cart descended downward into the bowels of Gringotts. They continued down past the Thieves Downfall—the twists and turns seemed endless until they finally stopped at an outcropping where several large columns were.

“How far down are we, Bill?” Hermione asked with interest.

“Fairly far.” Bill said easily, waving his wand and dropping several enchantments around the area. He helped his Aunt and then Hermione out of the cart and led them past several more large columns until they came to an opening where a statue of a Sphinx was sitting, eyeing them all with a piercing look.

“Who enters here?”

“William Weasley. I bring Muriel Prewett and Hermione Prewett to their vaults.”

“You must answer a riddle to pass.”

“Very well.” Bill gestured to Hermione to move up to the space next to him, which she did after a brief moment.

_ **This is the thing that devours all  
You can not run from it  
You can not buy it  
In the end all men fall  
What am I?** _

Hermione stood there for a second and then smiled widely. “Time.”

The Sphinx nodded. “You may pass.”

The three of them moved towards a large set of vault doors and felt the wards accept them. Each door was more impressive than the last until they came to the end of a long corridor. Bill waved his wand again and then reached for Hermione’s hand, which she gave without hesitation.

“I will need a drop of your blood so the wards of the vault will recognize you.”

“It this the Prewett vault?”

“It is.” Bill replied, casting a _diffindo_ and allowing a small bit of Hermione’s blood to pool on the top of her finger before rubbing it onto the vault door. He then cast an episky and sealed the cut before waving his wand. The large latches from inside began to tumble and with a loud click, the vault door opened.

Muriel moved inside, and Hermione looked up at Bill who smiled and led her into the cavernous room that was filled with gold, silver, jewels, paintings and books—that all looked to be _very_ old. Muriel tutted to herself as she filled up a small purse with galleons, then set it aside and filled a secondary purse with more galleons. She then reached for a red velvet box and placed it into her bag before walking back over and handing Hermione the second purse.

“This is charmed, and will allow you to take galleons out of the vault as needed for things like school supplies, clothes, books and the like. From what I’ve been led to understand, you are a very responsible young lady, so I’m not going to enforce an allowance, but if there is something you require that is fairly pricey? I would hope you might discuss it with me beforehand.”

“Of course, Grandmother. I wouldn’t ever think of abusing your trust in such a way.”

“Good girl.” Muriel said with a grin before nodding to Bill. “Let’s take her to the McKinnon vault.”

Bill gestured for the two to precede him outside and he reset the wards before they moved back into the cart. The cart sped up and made a few more twists down until it stopped again, this time at a small entrance that had two sconces that lined the cavern wall. Bill got out first and waved his wand, lighting the sconces and then helped both witches out of the cart before leading them to the entrance of the cave.

“Take your ring hand Hermione and place it just there.” Bill pointed to a small opening that looked like it might fit a single hand. She placed her hand directly on the smooth slab and a blue light flashed bright for a second before the cavern widened and allowed for them all to pass.

“What would have happened if I hadn’t placed my hand there and tried to go through the cavern opening on my own?”

Bill grimaced. “The cavern would have collapsed on top of you, _burying you alive.”_

Hermione shivered as she continued to walk through the long archway until they reached the other end. When they did she gasped in wonder. There was only one door, but it was grander than anything she’d ever seen. The McKinnon family crest was engraved out of pure goblin gold, and the door had to be at least thirty metres high.

“This is _amazing_.”

Bill nodded in agreement, never having been through this part of Gringotts. There were several ancient vaults that would only allow family members in. He had been a bit surprised that the corridor had allowed for he and his Aunt Muriel to pass through, but perhaps being with Hermione was sufficient to allow for passage.

“What do I do?”

“Place your right hand on the door.”

Hermione nodded and moved forward, doing as instructed. When she laid her hand flat on the part of the family crest she could reach, the door shivered and rippled like water until it disappeared completely—leaving the vault open to her eyes.

What she saw in there was simply astonishing.

The Prewett’s were clearly wealthy, but the McKinnon’s had obviously been as or moreso due to the size and breadth of the vault. There were galleons, knuts, sickles galore. Dressers of jewels, priceless works of art. Beautiful goblets of gold and priceless antiques. But it was the books that caught Hermione’s eye as she walked towards the largest bookshelf she’d ever seen. 

There had to be at least a thousand books upon it.

_She loved Magic!_

When she turned around, realizing no one was following her, she saw Bill and her Grandmother standing outside in the outer chamber.

“Can’t you come inside?”

Bill shook his head. “Apparently not. Have a look around Hermione, but know that I can always bring you back later if you want to spend some time down here.”

She took one final look around and then her eyes widened on a book that was sitting under a glass case, clearly under some kind of stasis spell. Tears welled as she reached down and reverently placed her hand on the top of the glass. It shimmered and then disappeared, but the book remained...pristine and hers.

She gently lifted it up and cradled it tightly to her chest, which was heaving as she tried to get herself under control.

Turning around, her smile was _blinding_ as she held onto the rare treasure for dear life.

“What is that, dearest?”

“A first edition of _Hogwarts a History.”_

Bill chuckled while Muriel just seemed a bit perplexed, clearly not expecting that kind of reaction over such a tome. 

Her nephew whispered, “It’s her favorite book.”

“Ah, that explains it.”

“Can I take it with me?”

“Of course you can, Hermione, it belongs to you now.”

She squealed out happily as she pranced over with the book still held tightly against her chest. Muriel couldn’t help but look upon fondly at her Granddaughter, who standing there amongst all the wealth and avarice, and she was completely enamoured with a book.

Clearly her Mother’s daughter, by all accounts.

“Come along, dearest, why don’t we get that upstairs and I will call Sabbo, who can take it back to Fosgate Hall and your room—so you won’t have to carry it all day.”

“Okay.” 

Hermione didn’t even complain about the use of the House Elf and Bill shot his Aunt a clearly amused look.

They quickly returned to the Weasley’s and Harry, who had already gone to the Potter vault to grab some galleons of his own for shopping. When he saw Hermione as they walked out and back into the main entryway of the bank, he couldn’t help but notice her brimming with excitement. 

And then he saw the book.

He laughed loudly, and everyone turned towards the sound—including Malfoy and Pucey who were still there now speaking with Theodore Nott and his Father—who had shown with Lucius Malfoy.

“Harry!”

Ron walked over, his expression curious as he asked, “What’s going on?”

Harry pointed to Hermione, who was glaring angrily at him—the book clutched to her chest.

Ron took one look at the book and laughed as he shook his head fondly at his best friend, who’s expression was both excited and upset.

She stomped her foot. “_You’re both making fun of me?”_ She hissed out.

“No, Hermione,” Harry said with an infectious grin, “is that what I _think_ it is?”

“Yes! It’s a First Edition. I found it in my Mother’s vault, and I’m taking it with me so don’t you _dare_ tease me!”

“What is it, mate?” George came over with Fred, who was trying to get a look at the book in Hermione’s arms.

“Hogwarts a History.” Both Ron and Harry said simultaneously, causing Hermione to blush in embarrassment.

“Now, gentleman...” Muriel tsked, “I do believe that Hermione is to be _commended_. Of all the treasures in her Mother’s vault—this was what called to her. It’s to be _praised_, not scoffed at.”

Both boys looked sheepish, and Hermione’s knuckles were white as her blue eyes filled with reluctant tears.

“We’re sorry, Mione,” Ron said sincerely, “it’s just you look like how I do when I get excited about Quidditch, or Harry about flying on his Firebolt.”

Harry nodded. “It’s good to see you happy.”

Hermione sniffled and allowed her two best friends to envelope her into their embrace, oblivious of the interested stares from everyone in the bank.

“It’s a First Edition!” She whispered excitedly before turning to her Grandmother who shook her head in a silent reprimand.

“Shopping first young lady—reading later.”

“_But_...”

“Sabbo!”

The tiny elf popped into the bank and shivered as she stared at her Mistress.

“Yes, Mistress?”

“Take Hermione’s book home immediately and place it in her suite.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

The elf carefully took the priceless treasure and popped away, leaving Hermione feeling bereft.

She turned her eyes to her Grandmother silently pleading, but Muriel just shook her head again.

“That look didn’t work for your Father, and it won’t work for you, dearest. We have an appointment at Madam Malkins and it would be rude to be late. Come along, children.”

Hermione’s face fell and Harry grabbed her hand, leading her towards the entrance.

“It is only going to be a few hours, Hermione.”

“Easy for you to say, Harry! You’re not the one forced to play dress up all afternoon. I’d rather ride on a broom.”

“That can be arranged, you know.” Harry mocked, earning a shoulder shove from his best friend.

“Shut it, Potter.”

“You love me.”

“You’re lucky I do.” She bit back with a smile. “I’ve always wanted a brother.”

“And now you have one.”

When they got to the entrance, Muriel stopped and nodded to Thoros and Theodore.

“Lord Nott and young Theodore. It is good to see you both.”

Thoros moved over and bowed formally before reaching for Muriel’s proffered hand and placing a deferential kiss on the back of her knuckles in greeting.

“You look lovely as always, Lady Prewett.” Thoros deep voice resonated before his piercing blue eyes moved towards Hermione, who was holding tightly onto Harry’s arm for reassurance.

“Miss Prewett. I am honored to make your acquaintance.”

Hermione nodded as she turned to her Grandmother, deferring to her.

“I did receive your owl, Thoros, and would be most gratified to have both yourself and Theodore over for tea sometime soon.”

Thoros nodded formally before moving back to his son. “We will await your invitation most eagerly, Muriel.”

The older witch smirked and then swept out of Gringotts, with her family following closely behind her.

Hermione tried her best to ignore the interested stares from nearly everyone, while Arthur just gave Lucius a pointed look of disgust before following his wife—who was clearly not happy with the turn of events.

When they were gone, Thoros turned to Lucius and nodded. “I can see what you mean by the change of appearance, old Friend.”

“Yes,” Lucius drawled arrogantly, “It was wise of Muriel to bring her directly to Gringotts. Making her heritage known in this way puts any speculation to rest.”

“Indeed. The McKinnon vault alone would’ve rejected her had she not been a direct blood descendent. I’ve heard second hand of course, that the enchantments on their vault are rather formidable.”

Draco listened with interest, as he stared after Hermione and her newly acquired family. His gaze caught Adrian’s, who’s own expression was calculating.

“I _know_ that look.” Draco smirked at his friend and Adrian shrugged.

“I would be a fool not to acknowledge that Hermione is a rather becoming witch. Always has been. Brilliant, powerful and brave.”

“And she comes with a gaggle of Weasley’s and a Potter. Best of luck, mate.”

“You’re not the least bit intrigued?”

Draco feigned disinterest, as it wouldn’t do if any of his mates suspected his own interest in the Prewett Heiress.

“She punched me third year. Do you really think the witch is going to give me the time of day?”

“Miss Prewett punched you?” Lucius smirked evilly at the admission. “Did you deserve it, Son?”

“_Yes_.” Theo said with a grin.

“You were there?” Thoros asked and Theo nodded.

“She called him a _foul evil cockroach_...wasn’t it, mate?”

Draco glowered at his Slytherin classmate, but didn’t answer. 

Lucius lifted an amused eyebrow while Thoros cleared his throat, trying very hard not to laugh out loud. 

Such displays of mirth would be simply gauche.

“Guess you won’t be trying to court said witch, right mate?” Adrian deadpanned and Draco just sneered at him openly...refusing to rise to the bait.

Draco gave his Father a measured look that Lucius knew all too well.

His Son clearly wasn’t going to allow anyone to speculate on his interest in Miss Prewett. 

A bit of reverse psychology. 

_Very Slytherin indeed._

Lucius couldn’t have been prouder.


	14. Not Everything is as it Seems

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Muriel educates Hermione and Harry on a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Shopping had been a rather eye opening experience for Hermione. Muriel, who was obviously as traditional as Molly had indicated in their earlier tête-à-tête, had been rather uncompromising in her suggestions for witches robes (both formal and casual). Hermione had taken her suggestions to heart and had stood there stoically as she was pinched, poked and prodded by Madam Malkin for nearly three hours.

In the end she had nearly burst into tears with how frustrated she’d felt.

Her Grandmother had noticed, but wisely had not said anything.

When they’d returned home later that afternoon, Hermione had gone to her room and refused to come down for dinner, stating she wasn’t feeling well.

No one had been fooled by that either.

Several days had passed after that incident, and when her clothes had finally been delivered en masse, Hermione had stared morosely at them while fingering the expensive fabrics with a sigh.

The gowns were rather lovely, and she knew there would be balls and social events that she’d be required to attend. When she’d lived with the Granger’s, there had been several society functions that her parents had been invited to, and she had gone along—if only to please her Mum.

What most people didn’t know, or perhaps chose to ignore, was that Hermione was a people pleaser. Her academic successes had been born out of pleasing her parents but also because she’d had very little in the way of friends growing up in the Muggle World. Other children seemed to instinctively know she was different..._smarter than they were—_and that had made it challenging to make meaningful connections growing up.

Even at Hogwarts, she’d struggled early on.

Until Halloween of her first year, but that hadn’t changed her nature.

Yes, she was brash, brave and outspoken when it came to protecting the underdog. Harry, House Elves, Werewolves, Centaurs, Muggleborns...the list was rather notable. But there had been times she’d allowed her friends to walk all over her feelings, and she’d capitulated mostly—well, except for the Firebolt incident third year.

In her heart, she was a simple girl with simple needs. She liked learning, books and logic. Not necessarily in that order but it pretty much summed up her entire life thus far. Books were factual, usually. Learning helped her cope, and logic made sense of the chaos.

And therein lied the crux of the problem.

_None of this was logical._

She couldn’t find a book to explain everything and as excited as she was to learn about something new...the subject matter left a lot to be desired.

She wasn’t some dainty Pureblood Princess and probably never would be. It had been hard not hex Lucius Malfoy when she’d seen him, nor scoff at Narcissa Malfoy, even though she’d only ever met the woman once.

But that experience hadn’t been a positive one.

Thoros Nott hadn’t been at the Ministry the night of the break in, but she’d known instinctively that the man was likely a Death Eater. Theo Nott had never been downright mean to her, had just ignored her as if she hadn’t mattered.  
  
But then, he pretty much ignored _everyone_, so it was kinda hard to take exception to that.

She was getting a migraine just thinking about it.

The sad part was she’d seen the pain in Molly’s eyes when the truth of her past had been shared and how it had affected her place within her own family and that of her children. Molly had followed her heart and lost her standing, and as much as Hermione knew Molly loved Arthur—the sadness of her body language could not be hidden away.

Love might conquer most things, but hindsight probably wasn’t one of them.

So, the last few days Hermione had done what she did best...

She’d made a _Pro’s and Con’s list._

And as she stared at the finished product, she sighed in defeat.

The Pro’s list was long and detailed and the Con’s list had a single, solitary item (that was, if you didn’t count the raging, bitchiness and general complaining): _Loss of Parents._

However you looked at that—it was the truth. 

She’d lost Fabian and Marlene.

Had never gotten the chance to know them.

They’d protected her, died for her but in the end they were gone and that life had been _stolen_.

Then there was her Mum and Dad. The Granger’s; whom she loved as her own parents...not knowing any different. They’d taught her compassion, altruism, charity, hard work, humility, self-sacrifice and love. But the nagging question that she kept coming back round to, was simply—was it real? 

Or was it some kind of enchantment?

And did it really matter?

Hermione Granger had known her place in the world, for good or bad...she’d known. 

And had accepted it, rather defiantly.

Hermione Prewett had no idea where she fit into the world anymore. She was powerful, true. But her Dad had always told her with ‘_great power comes great responsibility_.’ 

He’d shared that pearl of wisdom before she’d started Hogwarts.

Her Mum had told her ‘_remember kindness, live courageous.’_

And she’d lived those words...everyday of her life to this point.

She would continue to do so, too. 

She owed that to herself and her parents.

Both sets of them.

Not that it would be easy to bite her tongue and not speak her mind. But she supposed that there were better ways of getting your point across. Maybe in time if her Grandmother saw her really trying to do better, then she might meet half way and capitulate on those things that truly mattered to her. Muriel had already promised not to force her into an arranged marriage. The House Elf situation would require further investigation and research.

But being forced to socialize and be civil to those people who’d been so dismissive of her just weeks ago?

She wasn’t sure there was enough compromise in her for that Herculean task.

As she was brooding over the unfairness of having to play nice, a knock sounded on her door. Walking over and opening it, she smiled seeing Harry on the other side. He looked like he’d just woken up as his hair was in greater disarray than normal. There was a letter in his hand.

“Can I come in?”

Hermione nodded and gestured for him to enter, which he did. He moved over to her bed and sat down at the end, silently holding out the letter for her, which she took.

She began to read the missive, and her expression fell at the words upon the note...

_ **Dear Mr. Potter,** _

_ **The Last Will of Sirius Black, last son of the Ancient and Noble House of Black will be read this Saturday, July 6 Nineteen Hundred and Ninety Six at Gringotts, precisely at four. Please make arrangements to be there at the time mentioned.** _

_ **Sincere regards,** _

_ **Blordak  
Goblin relations for Wizarding Wills and Trusts  
Gringotts Bank  
London** _

Hermione sighed and nodded. She was about to speak when there was a ‘_pop_’ and Sabbo appeared, her ears flapping nervously as she stared up at both of them with her big blue eyes.

“Mistress wouls like you to join her in her study, Miss.”

Hermione smiled at the elf. “Please let her know I’ll be there shortly. Thank you, Sabbo.”

The elf bowed and popped away, leaving both Harry and Hermione shaking their heads.

“Who’d have ever thought you’d be okay with House Elves?”

“I’m _not_. Not exactly, but I will concede I need to study more about them. Their customs, magic and so forth.”

“That’s awfully insightful, Hermione.”

“I’m trying to be less reactionary, Harry. My mind is all over the place and it’s not necessarily a good way to make decisions. Especially when I’m feeling this way.”

“Overwhelmed?”

She nodded. “Scared too.”

Harry grabbed her hand and then wrapped his arm around her shoulders, encouraging her to lean her head against him which she did.

“Why are you scared?”

“Because. What if I can’t do this, Harry? What if I disappoint my Grandmother? What if I end up doing something that I can’t take back?”

Harry kissed the top of her head in comfort before he spoke. “Hermione, no one expects you to have this all figured out today...tomorrow or even months from now. I know your Grandmother is a bit of a whirlwind, but I genuinely think she is just grateful to have you back in her life. Talk to her about all this and try to find common ground. I think you’re so afraid of disappointing an authority figure that your making yourself sick in the process.”

“You think I’m making this worse?”

“Yes and no. I just think you need to take a step back and do what you’ve always done.”

“Which is?”

“Research. Gather information. Use this time to learn as much as you can about Pureblood customs and then...when you’ve absorbed everything in that brilliant brain of yours...make the choice to which customs and traditions are worth keeping and which ones don’t work for you. Your Grandmother isn’t going to be around forever, and I think you can utilize her as an excellent resource. She doesn’t seem to care for many people, but she obviously knows how to play the game. So is it the game you object to, or having to take part in it?”

Hermione giggled, appreciating how smart Harry could be when he applied himself. 

Since Voldemort was vanquished, her friend’s mood swings were a thing of the past.

Another thing for her Pro list.

“Can’t it be both?”

Harry laughed hard and Hermione grinned, realizing how petulant and whiny she’d sounded.

“Oh Merlin, I sound like I’m having a proper temper tantrum.”

“Not exactly, but the pouting is rather cute.” Harry quipped with a playful shove. “Look, Hermione? You have me and I’m not going anywhere. We are going to do this together and I’m not going to allow you to fail at this, just like you’ve never allowed me to fail at anything. This may not be Dark Lord stuff, but at least it’s not life and death either...right?”

She nodded in relief. “I suppose so.”

“Good.” Harry stood up, taking her with him. “Let’s go see what Muriel wants. I’m thinking she got a notice too.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in understanding. “Do you think so?”

“Yes.”

Together they made their way to Muriel’s study, where she was sitting behind her desk looking over a few ledgers. When they walked in she waved them both to the chairs across from her desk and the waved her wand, shutting and warding the door behind them.

“Good morning, children. I see you’ve received your notice for Sirius’ Will reading this Saturday?”

Harry nodded. “I just got it this morning.”

Muriel returned the gesture and then moved the ledger aside, where an envelope sat on her desk that looked exactly like Harry’s. She picked it up and handed it to Hermione.

“This came for you.”

Hermione took the envelope which was still sealed, with a questioning look. “Why didn’t it come to me directly?”

“All notification of a legal nature goes to the Head of the Family. Mr. Potter’s owl came to me as well, but I had the owl take it to him directly. I figured it would give you both a chance to discuss it first.”

Hermione agreed with her Grandmother, and nodded her thanks. Opening the letter, it basically reiterated the same wording as Harry’s had.

“It would seem that your earlier assumption about Sirius was likely accurate, Mr. Potter.” Muriel smirked and Harry just sighed.

“Would it be alright if you called me Harry, Lady Prewett?”

Muriel chuckled, her eyes filled with genuine warmth. “I think that can be arranged. Would you prefer to call me Aunt Muriel or Grandmother?”

Harry blanched on a cough, while Hermione’s expression was beaming in happiness as she smiled widely at her Grandmother.

“Uhm, Aunt Muriel is fine.”

“Then it’s settled.”

“Thank you, Grandmother.”

“You’re welcome, dearest.” Muriel closed the ledger and sat back, eyeing them both with a scrutinizing look.

“I know this hasn’t been easy for either of you. There is much you’ll need to learn about how things are done in the Wizarding World. Growing up as you both have, I know much of the old ways must seem rather restricting and antiquated. Am I correct?”

Hermione tilted her head down as she was reluctant to make eye contact but Harry just turned towards his friend and said, “Yes. I think Hermione is feeling more of that than I am. I was just so happy to have found a place that seemed to accept me. Being famous? I never much cared for any of that rubbish, but being here in the Magical World just made sense. I think for Hermione she struggles with it more because she had a happy childhood and feels like she’s having to give up a big part of whom she is.”

“Is this true?” Muriel addressed her Granddaughter, who seemed very uncomfortable-but she shrugged indifferently. “Hermione, I can’t help you if you’re not honest with me.”

Large blue eyes lifted and met hers and Muriel could see the conflict raging there.

“Let me ask you a question, if I may?” At that, Hermione nodded so Muriel continued...

“When you found out how Muggleborns were looked down upon? Did it inspire you to work harder to prove yourself?”

“Yes.” Hermione replied instantly.

“And if you’d grown up here, with me or with your magical parents? Do you think you might’ve been as eager and driven to prove yourself?”

Hermione thought about it for a moment before she shrugged again. “I don’t honestly know.”

“Do you see your Muggle background as a hindrance?”

“_Definitely not.”_ Hermione’s voice was firm, her expression fierce and Muriel smirked at the obvious reaction.

“Do you think other’s see it the same way as you do?”

Hermione paused at the barb that was about to roll off her tongue as she bit her lip in contemplation.

It was a fair question, even if she abhorred it.

“No. I think most of the Wizarding World is rather prejudiced against Muggles.”

“And why do you suppose that is?”

“Because they see Muggles as lesser, beneath them.”

“Hmmm, that’s the easy answer and whilst I agree with you it plays it’s part...don’t you think there might be _more_ to it than just that?”

Hermione glanced at Harry and noticed he was nodding in agreement before he interrupted.

“I think Wizards and Witches fear Muggles. Maybe it’s due to previous persecution, and maybe it’s due to lack of understanding too.” Harry offered and Muriel seemed to be encouraging them both to go on with their thoughts.

“I think Harry is right, but I also think it’s a very patriarchal society that seeks to keep women in a place of subservience. Magical creatures don’t have rights...or at least not to the same level as witches and wizards. Muggle culture is sneered at,as permissive and barbaric.”

“And you don’t agree with those sentiments?”

“No, I don’t.” Hermione said emotively. “Why should a male inherit over a female? Why should men have the power and women be relegated to being subjugated as lesser than their husbands?”

At this, Muriel grinned. “Ah, dearest, now I understand a bit better. Tell me? Your parents, the Granger’s? They were both Healers of some kind, yes?”

Hermione nodded so Muriel went on...

“Who would you say was the dominant force in that relationship?”

Hermione pondered this for a moment before saying, “My Mum. Definitely.”

“Alright. Their home, business? Was it in both their names?”

Hermione nodded again, unsure of where her Grandmother was going with this. “And you think that it isn’t this way in Wizarding Society.”

“It’s not.”

Muriel lifted the ledger and handed it to her Granddaughter, gesturing for her to open it...which she did after a few seconds and gasped at what she saw. All the accounts, properties, wealth of the Prewett family were in Muriel’s name, to be held in trust until Hermione finished Hogwarts. As Hermione read through each document, it definitely was an eye opener.

“But if I had a brother, he’d inherit...correct?”

Muriel nodded. “That is true—to an extent. When a witch marries into another House, a dowry is set aside for her by her family. In the betrothal contract it can state one of two things, but it is usually done in the way I will explain. A witch may keep her dowry separate from her new House. The money is utilized at her sole discretion. She may bequeath it to her children, male or female or keep it for herself. Most witches set up trust for younger children with this money so that those who don’t directly inherit the bulk of the estate are still comfortable. The male heir of a Pureblood House does not have that right. All his wealth must be entitled down to the eldest Male Heir.”

Both Harry and Hermione listened with interest at this new information. Muriel could see questions wanting to be asked, but she lifted her finger and halted them.

“Let me finish, yes?”

“Of course, Grandmother.”

“Good. Now in the Muggle World, wealth is usually, but not always evenly distributed between all surviving children. But that’s not the case within the Muggle Aristocracy, is it?”

Hermione nodded, so Muriel went on. “In the Magical World, children are a blessing. As such, there is an inherent urgent need to provide for them as best we can. On occasion, a child might be banished from a line but that child _can’t_ be disinherited. Not completely. Magic won’t allow for it.”

“I don’t understand.” Harry piped in.

“Hasn’t it crossed either of your minds how Sirius could’ve left a will, if he’d been blasted off his family’s tree?”

Hermione and Harry both shook their heads in unison, not realizing what that meant.

“Sirius, when he was a boy was the Black Heir. At the age of sixteen, he was banished from the Black Family Tree. As a result, Regulus became the default heir until he disappeared, and then his death was confirmed. But, Alphard Black—who was Sirius Uncle and the second eldest son, had no heirs so he left his portion of the Black fortune to Sirius before he was banished. By doing so, he magically tied Sirius to the Black Family and even being blasted off the family tree, couldn’t take that away.”

“What about Andromeda?” Hermione asked lowly.

“Andromeda’s parents were Cygnus Black and Druella Rosier. Druella left her dowry to all three of her girls. Split evenly. Cygnus left his portion of the Black inheritance to Draco Malfoy...his only grandson. In this way, all their girls were provided for, even Andromeda. Andromeda still has access to the Rosier vaults. The Black main vaults however, were sealed when Regulus died, and Sirius went to Azkaban. The reading of Sirius’ will on Saturday will change that, in all likelihood.”

Everyone was silent for a few moments, processing what the possible outcome of Saturday’s secrets might bring to light.

Then Hermione had a thought...

“What about the title of Lord Black?”

Muriel gave her Granddaughter an appraising nod. “Draco Malfoy will inherit the title regardless. He’s the closest Black Heir.”

“But how can Sirius have Harry inherit anything, if Draco gets the title?”

Muriel chuckled. “Dearest, that’s what I’ve been trying to explain to you. You seem to want to automatically conclude that inheritance issues are strictly cut and dry and they’re not. Sirius, by virtue of him being the last Black descendant, can determine many things but _not_ how the title is passed. That _alone_ is dictated by tradition. Titles mean something it’s true, just as I assume they do in the Muggle World. But not everyone who holds a title, has the wealth to back it up. Just as those who have wealth—the McKinnon’s for example? Have titles. I would’ve thought you’d recognized as such visiting Gringotts and observing that for yourself.”

“Okay.” Hermione capitulated reluctantly. “Who else might be there Saturday?”

“All remaining Black family members, so Narcissa and Andromeda as well as Nymphadora. That was likely part of the reason we saw Narcissa at Gringotts the other day. The Malfoy Heir will be there, and I would imagine Remus Lupin and Arthur Weasley might have been summoned as well.”

“Is there anything we need to prepare for the meeting?” Harry asked warily.

“No, but it’s important to remember to not lose your temper nor disrespect the Goblins in any fashion during the reading. Goblins are notoriously particular and do not like to have their time wasted by witches and wizards. They are brutally efficient and amusingly indifferent to emotion and sentiment. _Don’t allow your feelings to get ahead of you.”_

Both of them nodded in agreement. “Good, now—I know both of you need to learn over the next two years, how to deal with inheritance issues. Harry, I will be happy to help you with your House finances and teach you how to communicate with the Goblins as well as the Ministry in regards to your inheritance. Once you become of age, you’ll be taking over the Potter family vaults and finances that have been sitting in trust until you turn seventeen.” 

Harry blushed, but mumbled a quick _thank you _and then Muriel turned to Hermione and waved to her ledgers, paperwork and other items...

“You, my dear, will be needing to learn about the Prewett and McKinnon trusts as well. The goblins will release the entirety of the McKinnon Vault to you upon your graduation from Hogwarts unless something usurps that.”

“Which would be?”

“A Last Will from your Mother.”

“Do you think that it’s possible she left something with Sirius?”

“I think we will know for sure, come Saturday.”


	15. The Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reading of Sirius Will takes place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the great kudos and reviews.

So, it was with a healthy dose of Gryffindor courage that Hermione Prewett found herself walking inside Gringotts for the second time in one week, dressed smartly in a new set of Witches robes that were a stunning shade of blue, the skirt had a flirty flair and the fitted jacket went to her hip bone. The blouse underneath was silk, creme and matched her shoes—which were sandaled stilettos that had gold inlaid on the strap and heel. The garter, sheer stockings, bra and panties had all been purchased from Lillian’s lingerie—the highest end boutique on Diagon Alley.

Hermione had _refused_ to wear a hat.

She scowled at the offending piece of frippery and thrown it onto her bed in disgust preferring to pull her hair back into a sleek gold barrette that held the top of her hair away from her face.

Makeup had been purposefully forgotten.

She refused to look like some made up doll for a Will reading. 

There was no one in that room she needed to impress anyway.

Harry held her arm firmly within his own, his own new set of robes were quite dashing. 

He also looked as uncomfortable as she did.

_Merlin, but they were a right pair._

Her face cracked into an almost grin at the thought as they made their way to the Head Counter, and then were immediately shown to a room in the back of the bank, down one level.

When they walked in, Hermione noticed that they were likely the last to arrive.

As predicted, Andromeda was there with Tonks as was Arthur and Remus. Malfoy and his Mother were sitting away from everyone, quietly talking amongst themselves. But the one person she was most surprised to see was Dumbledore. Harry must’ve thought it odd too, by the confused look he gave her.

Harry led her over to a padded chair, next to Tonks, who smiled and pulled her into a quick hug.

“You look so different.” She whispered lowly and Hermione sighed and nodded.

“Everything is different.”

“True enough.” Tonks replied with a sad smile. “But you’re still as beautiful as you always were, Hermione.”

“Thanks, Tonks.” Hermione reached for the Auror’s hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze, before nodding to Andromeda.

She purposefully kept her gaze averted from the blonde’s in the room.

A few moments later, a Goblin came in.

He looked like most of the other goblins she’d seen over the years. His face was a bit squarer, he had a small upturned nose and wavy hair that reminded her of an old picture she’d seen once of an actor her Mother Helen, had favored. Robert Carlyle? She couldn’t exactly remember. His three piece suit was rather fashionable for a Goblin and he had a gold link chain that probably housed a watch of some kind on one end peeking out of his vest pocket.

“Welcome, I am assuming this is everyone?” 

He then nodded to himself and pulled the gold link from his vest, which indeed, held a gold watch. He checked the time and then the door shut and warded as everyone took their spots around the large oval table.

The Goblin then opened a drawer and took out a long scroll, unrolled it and magically placed it upon the table, before he cleared his throat and started speaking.

“We are here, on this date of July sixth, Nineteen-hundred and Ninety Six at Four o’clock in the afternoon to read the Last Will and Testament of one Sirius Orion Black—born November 3, 1959 and died on June 18, 1996. Does anyone here take exception to the Will being read at this time?”

No one spoke, and Hermione reached for Harry’s hand which he gave without hesitation.

“I am Blordak, Goblin in charge of Wills and Trusts here at Gringotts Bank. I have been given leave to read the Will at this time, does anyone here object?”

Again, no one spoke up so the Goblin continued...

He set the parchment down on some kind on stone and then the paper started to shift, until it formed a mouth—much like a howler...and then Sirius’ voice spoke.

Hermione felt Harry grip her hand tighter in response.

“Hello, everyone. So, this is my Last Will and Testament. I’d like to begin by stating my thanks to all those who’ve chosen to be here and to those who obviously didn’t choose to...” (Hermione saw Narcissa stiffen from the corner of her eye, while Draco just frowned)...”but no matter, let’s get on with this _rot_, shall we?”

Harry grinned and even Remus smiled at the sarcasm from Padfoot...clearly detesting this even in death...

...it was rather amusing.

“As the last Son, of the Ancient and Noble House of Black, it is within my rights to determine the dispersement of all family vaults, possessions, properties..._blah, blah blah.._. The title of Lord Black will be passed down to my cousin—Draco Lucius Malfoy. In the event of his _death_, the title will be bequeathed to his oldest Male Heir. If Draco Lucius Malfoy should die before giving birth to an Heir, the Title of Lord Black will then pass to Harry James Potter. Grandson of Dorea Black Potter, Son of James and Lily Potter.”

Hermione’s hand started to shake a bit, but Harry just nodded in silent understanding. They’d been forewarned this would happen. Malfoy obviously didn’t seem surprised, but his gaze did settle upon Harry briefly. 

However, he didn’t give away any of his feelings at all.

“Now to the matters of assets. Currently there are three main Black Family vaults. I have asked the Goblins to divvy up the assets in accordance with the bequeathments here today. Once done, _the Black main vaults will be closed for all perpetuity.”_

Narcissa hissed lowly and even Draco seemed shocked by this. 

Andromeda though, wasn’t.

The smirk on her face was _telling_.

_ **Very interesting.** _

“To my cousin Andromeda and her daughter Nymphadora (_sorry Dora)_...I bequeath a sum in total of one million galleons each from the main Black Family vault.”

Hermione gazed over at both women and saw their faces drop in shock. Clearly they had not been expecting that level of generosity and based on Narcissa Malfoy’s expression, she hadn’t either...

“To Arthur Weasley. I bequeath a sum total of 500,000 galleons from the second Black Family vault, as well as the Black Family home in Lyon, France.”

Arthur’s expression was pure shock as well and Hermione couldn’t help but be happy for the Weasley’s, who really could use the money.

“To Remus Lupin, a true friend and fellow Marauder. I hereby bequeath a sum total of 500,000 galleons from my own personal vault, passed down to me by Alphard Black, as well as a stipend monthly from this vault to pay for his allotment of Wolfsbane to be procured by Gringotts for his own personal use.”

Remus swallowed heavily and brushed back a tear as he smiled warmly at the voice of his oldest friend.

“To my cousin Narcissa Malfoy and her son, Draco Malfoy—(there was a theatrical pause, and Hermione could almost visualize the smug look on Sirius’ face at whatever prank he had planned coming to fruition)—I hereby bequeath all portraits of _every Black family member as well as all cursed jewelry to be given to the both of you. All said items will be placed in the third family vault for your perusal. Value I’m sure is inconsequential at this point...but enjoy!”_

Hermione bit her lip—_hard_—and even Harry smiled behind his hand as his eyes lit up with mirth.

A few voices cleared and then the parchment spoke again...its tone more emotional than before...

“To my Godson—Harry James Potter—I leave the bulk of the remaining Black estate...a total of fifty three million galleons, seven hundred knuts and two hundred sickles as well as the Black Family Manor to be utilized at his discretion.”

Harry coughed in shock and his eyes were wide as he gazed in horror and shock at the paper. 

Merlin!

That was a lot of money.

“And finally, to Miss Hermione Prewett—_hello kitten_...” Hermione’s breath hitched on a sob as she heard the clear adoration in Sirius’ voice...and his voice cleared several times too, before he continued on...

“If I’m gone, then it is likely that you have many questions, yes? First, I was your _Godfather_.”

Their were many gasps in the room, as everyone was clearly not expecting this admission...

“I know, I _know_...” Sirius chuckled deeply, “I’ve always had a flair for the _dramatic_. No one knew, kitten. No one, except your Mother and Father. It was I, who placed you with the Granger’s...your Father didn’t know and your Mother had me obliviate her before I took you away. I know you must realize now why that was, but it doesn’t change the fact that had we not...you’d be dead along with your Mum and Dad. The McKinnon’s went into hiding and they were compromised. Your Mother, begged me to take you to the Granger’s...as that was the fall back plan should their location be given up to Voldemort. I did as instructed but when I came back, it was too late and your Mother was _gone_—along with the rest of the family. The rest, you probably already know by now. I’m sorry, I couldn’t save them, but I was able to save you, kitten. Your Mum and Dad _loved_ you desperately. _They died to keep you safe. _Take care of Harry and Son? You take care of your _sister_. You two were always like siblings, even as babes.—(Both Harry and Hermione gasped as they tightened their hold onto each other’s hands)—Yes, _even then._”

There was a brief pause and then Sirius spoke again...his voice firmer and resolved...

“Blordak, the Last Will of the McKinnon Family will be found in my personal vault. Please have it read immediately.”

The goblin nodded and then snapped his fingers, signaling for another goblin to enter. After a few moments the second goblin left and the room was quiet for nearly twenty minutes until the goblin came back with a rolled piece of parchment and handed it over to Blordak.

Blordak placed the parchment on the stone, as Sirius’ had and it shimmered and morphed too...and then a musical voice was heard...and Remus gasped in recognition as he whispered _Marlene_.

“Hello, my _Princess_.”

Hermione’s blue eyes welled with tears but she valiantly held them back as she stared unseeingly at the parchment’s mouth directly in front of her.

“This is _not_ how I had hoped our story would end. But alas, if you are hearing this then it is done. The Dark Lord is _dead_, and you are free to be whom you were _always meant to be.”_

Harry smiled at his sister and she nodded back at him, before turning her gaze back to the parchment.

“Hermione Marlene Prewett, you are hereby named the _sole_ Heir to House McKinnon. With all the rights, wealth, titles and privileges set herein. The McKinnon family vault is yours, immediately upon notification of this Will. As agreed upon by House Prewett and House McKinnon—_**no formal betrothal contracts will be meted out nor given any standing for our daughter...her life and choice, is her’s alone.”**_

Hermione felt her whole body relax, not realizing how tense she’d been until this moment.

“The sum total of the McKinnon Wealth located in the family vault at the time of this valuation June 1979, is 52 million galleons, three hundred knuts and forty two sickles. The sum total of wealth in the McKinnon vault of jewelry is 18 million galleons, four hundred knuts and eighteen sickles. The sum total of miscellaneous items including art, books and other items is 32 million galleons approximately. Any interest on said investments is to be given solely to Hermione Marlene Prewett. All properties including McKinnon Manor, which is under _Fidelius_ is to be given to Hermione Marlene Prewett. All wealth and properties will be dispersed to Hermione Marlene Prewett’s Heirs at her sole discretion. My darling girl, call for Bunny—she was your nanny elf and is currently in residence with her family at McKinnon Manor. She will take you through the wards when you are ready.”

Hermione’s expression was understandably stunned beyond belief, and everyone could see her body shaking as the words were being processed in her prodigious mind.

“Lastly, to Albus Dumbledore. While I would thank you for doing what you could to protect my family, it was at my request that Sirius asked you to come here today. _You will have no influence over my child, nor her children. _You have made your choices for the greater good and as such, we have all paid for them with the blood of our own and our families. You didn’t give us a choice when the Prophecy was heard and as such—we paid the ultimate price. I cannot condemn you, but I will not allow my child to revere you either. _The loyalty of House McKinnon to the Order ends here and now...”_

Hermione glanced over at the Headmaster, who’s face was ashen.

Even Harry didn’t know what to do.

Remus seemed visibly upset, Arthur dumbfounded...

Andromeda’s glare was telling however. 

Narcissa and Draco as expected, showed no emotion.

“My Princess, you have the greatest of all power within you. Use it wisely and never forget that we loved you so much. Trust in your Grandmother, for she won’t steer you wrong. If Muriel is no longer alive...and Lily is gone...then I would ask you to hold onto Harry Potter. I would hope that _somehow_, you two have found your way to each other. Like Siblings you both were as babes. I would fervently pray that bond hasn’t diminished. If Prophecy is to go by, I suspect he’s sitting next to you even now. _Your Parents loved you, Harry Potter_. I was your _Godmother_. I just wish I could have seen you both grow into the remarkable people I know you both will become. We love you, Princess. _Be happy.”_

The paper quieted and Hermione wiped a tear that had fallen down her face, before someone handed her a silk handkerchief. She looked up into concerned grey eyes, and for a second she wasn’t sure what to do but Harry took the olive branch and nodded his thanks to Malfoy—before handing it to his sister.

“Miss Prewett, I will at your request, do an updated accounting of the McKinnon vault and have that done in short order.”

Hermione swallowed and nodded her thanks. “That would be most welcome. Thank you.”

Blordak nodded and then grabbed the parchments from the table in haste.

“This concludes our business here today. Please see yourselves out.”

The goblin moved off his chair and out the door, and Hermione shook her head at how spot on her Grandmother had been about the emotions of goblins.

Or lack thereof.

“Muriel sure had that one right, eh?”

Hermione turned to Harry and nodded. “She did. Makes me wonder what else she had right.”

Harry’s gaze flickered to Dumbledore, who was talking lowly with Arthur.

“What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know, Harry,” Hermione admitted with a sigh, “but there’s obviously more to all this than we know.”

“And you intend to get some answers?”

“I’m not sure answers are forthcoming, but if Andromeda’s reaction is anything to go by—not everyone in the Order trusted Dumbledore.”

Harry nodded reluctantly and led Hermione out of the room and over to the elevators. When they got in, they were followed by Draco and Narcissa, who were stoic per usual.

Hermione delicately cleared her voice and once she’d gotten Malfoy’s attention said softly, “Thank you for the handkerchief, Malfoy.”

Draco nodded regally, his mother firmly ensconced on his arm. “It was not a problem, Gra...” he stopped himself and sighed in apology. “I’m sorry. I suppose I will have to learn to refer to you some other way?”

His voice held an unspoken apology, but Hermione didn’t really have it in her to give the ferret a pass for how abysmally he’d treated her over the years.

“Probably.” She said, and noticed Harry’s grin and Narcissa’s smirk making an appearance. “As pretty much _everything you’ve referred to me as in the last five years no longer applies.”_

The smirk was gone, and Draco just sneered before sighing in defeat.

“True enough. I’m sure an apology of some kind is in order as well?”

“Don’t strain yourself, Malfoy.” Hermione bit out as the elevator door opened.

“Wasn’t planning on it.” Draco replied quickly in turn. “But even I know how to admit when I am wrong about something.”

“And just what were you wrong about?” Harry asked, intrigued.

“Many things, Potter. _Many things._” Was all the blonde wizard said before he bowed his head in departure, escorting his mother out of the bank leaving both Harry and Hermione stunned and at a loss for words.

_What in Merlin’s name had that meant?_


	16. Tea Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Notts come to Tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely kudos and reviews for those who’ve taken the time to leave one!

It was nearly a week later when Muriel had informed both she and Harry that they would be having guests over for tea the following weekend. Hermione hadn’t complained, nor said much of anything really—she’d just nodded and then went back into her room to read her First Edition of _Hogwarts a History_ for the third time.

Harry had been spending much of his free time with Ron and the twins, playing Quidditch out on the newly organized pitch that Muriel had allowed them to build.

Both Fred and George had foregone taking their NEWTS and had decided to open up a joke shop together in Diagon Alley. Harry had offered to invest in their business, as had Hermione. Muriel had been dubious at first by the idea, but her nephews had shown her the plethora of inventions they’d been working on and after a few days, Muriel had also offered her support for their venture.

Molly and Arthur had been shocked.

The money that Sirius had left the Weasleys along with the home in Lyon had surprised Molly initially. Then she’d cried for two days straight. While their lives had always been simple out of necessity, it would seem that they could now afford to make some much needed improvements to the Burrow. Their children had been rather reluctant to move from their family home, as they all felt it was a part of who they were—well, all except Ron who felt that it might be nice to have a nicer home for the family.

Fred and George had charmed Ron’s hair to change colors for two days until he apologized to their parents for being such a selfish git.

Ginny had been quiet for the past week or so, but eventually she’d gotten over her Harry obsession and had apologized to Hermione for her meltdown. Hermione figured it was likely due to finding out that Hermione and Harry had known each other as infants, even if it had only been for a short time.

Wizarding bonds were something all Pureblood families took very seriously.

When the day finally arrived for their guests, Hermione had decided to wear a simple emerald green poplin dress, with a pair of gold heels. She put her hair back into a sleek ponytail and met Harry downstairs in her Grandmother’s parlor to await on their guests.

When the floo activated, and Thoros and Theodore Nott stepped out looking impeccably dressed in formal Wizarding robes, Hermione gripped onto Harry’s arm as Muriel smiled and took the lovely bouquet of flowers from Theodore. She then called for Sabbo, who took the gift and ‘_popped_’ away, obviously to place them in water.

“Thank you for inviting us here today, Muriel.” Thoros’ deep voice resonated in the cozy room. “It has been a while.”

“It has.” Muriel then gestured to Hermione and Harry. “I’m sure you remember my Granddaughter, Hermione and Mr. Harry Potter. He is now part of the family.”

Thoros nodded, as his expression remained fixed but his eyes were cold as he stared at the Boy who Lived. 

“You remember, Theodore, yes? I do believe he is in the same class as your Granddaughter and Mr. Potter.”

Muriel nodded, and waved them all to a set of chairs surrounding an antique tea table. A pop sounded and Corky settled a beautiful antique China tea set with the proper teapot, creamer for the milk, sugar bowl, a pitcher of hot water (for those who preferred their tea a bit weaker) as well as a small tray of lemon slices. The tea tray and China set were placed on one side of the table while the cups, saucers and teaspoons were to the right and the left were the plates, tea napkins and flatware.

On the table was a triple serving tray of various delicacies including savones of cucumber, salmon and canapés filled with avocado and egg salad on the lowest level. The sweet pea and leek tartlets along with asparagus and mini cheese tarts that were placed on the middle serving tray, and on the top tray was a variety of mini quiches.

Muriel served the tea to each of her guests first, then Harry and finally Hermione. The teas were Earl Grey, Assam and a herbal chamomile and mint. Hermione watched her Grandmother closely, silently committing to memory every part of the tea service. 

Once they were settled, and everyone had chosen their favorites—conversation commenced.

“I had almost forgotten how excellent Corky’s sweet pea and leek tartlets were.” Thoros said with a pleased hum of appreciation. “Her currant scones were quite something too, if memory serves.”

Muriel nodded with a fond smile. “Corky enjoys making these little savones and pastries. It has been a while since I’ve indulged in afternoon tea of this extent.”

“Well, it’s good to share in those traditions.” Thoros eyes met Hermione’s, and she could tell he was trying to bait her. 

Apparently her little club this past year at school had moved beyond the walls of Hogwarts.

“Traditions are something to be admired,” she offered easily. “I find myself curious as to why certain traditions are taken at face value and others are _not_.”

“What do you mean, Miss Prewett?” Thoros inquired, with a small smirk.

“Well, take our afternoon tea service for example? Tradition and etiquette hasn’t changed much in the past 150 years, at least in that regard. In the Muggle World, credit was given to the Duchess of Bedford for the introduction of afternoon tea as a way to alleviate the long stretch of time between meals. Here in the Magical World, I’ve since read that the tradition dates back a bit farther, nearly 100 years prior by one of your own ancestors, Lord Nott.”

Thoros smirk deepened, and even Theo looked amused. 

Muriel just daintily sipped her Assam and watched the scene unfold before her.

“That is true, Miss Prewett. Although some traditions hail from much further back. Take House elves for example.” 

Hermione stiffened briefly and shot an accusing glare at Theo, who just grinned.

“I’m well aware of House Elves being utilized in various ways by their families over the centuries. Servants, Nanny elves and as punishment for _errant_ children’s mistakes.”

Muriel let out a delicate cough of rebuke, but Harry just lowered his head with a small smile upon his face. 

This was going to get interesting.

“And you don’t agree with these traditions, I take it?” Thoros asked with interest.

“There are many things I don’t agree with,” Hermione prevaricated, like a Slytherin would, “but that’s where research comes in quite handy. With enough time and proper investigation, even the most _difficult_ things can be done away with. Wouldn’t you agree, Lord Nott?”

Thoros chuckled deeply, and Theo was surprised by it.

He’d never seen his Father so compliant at being called out on his beliefs.

“I do believe you make a valid point, Miss Prewett. Hindsight teaches us _many_ things. Sometimes it isn’t until we have children of our own, that we understand completely the follies and impulses of youth that can lead to questionable choices.”

Hermione glanced over at Theo, who’s head was down at that admission.

It was definitely something he hadn’t expected his Father to say.

“I wouldn’t know, Lord Nott. I don’t have any children _yet_. Although looking out for Harry here has become a rather full time job over these past five years. But perhaps your supposition might also expand to include siblings? As I’ve always thought of Harry as a brother.”

Muriel lifted her tea cup in solidarity and even Theo grinned at Harry’s tell-tale blush. Thoros attention was back on the Chosen One, and he sighed heavily.

“Mr. Potter has led a rather public life thus far. Much expectation was placed upon him at such an early age.”

“Not by _choice_.” Harry glared openly at the older wizard, who’s own head bowed at the hit.

“You’ll find, Mr. Potter, that life is full of all kinds of choices. Many if not all, for the benefit and safety of those we love and wish to _protect_. You are most fortunate that you have a caring sister who wishes nothing more than your safety and well-being. And you’ve gained an ally in Muriel here, who is a rather formidable witch.”

“I’m grateful for Aunt Muriel’s kindness and for my sister, whom I wouldn’t be here without.”

Both Thoros and Theo’s eyes widened at the moniker for Muriel coming from Harry, but after a moment Thoros gestured to his son.

“Theo was quite interested in coming today and spending time with you both. I know House rivalries are a living, breathing issue at school—but I would hope you both might seek to set some of that aside for family. If for no other reason, than I think you three might actually have quite a bit to learn from each other.”

Hermione smiled softly at her cousin. “Theo was _very kind _in offering me any information he had on the McKinnon family.”

“It is my understanding you were made its sole Heiress, upon the reading of the lost McKinnon will at Gringotts not too long ago?”

Hermione nodded. “I’ve yet to call for my nanny elf to take me through the wards however, I don’t wish to go without some kind of reinforcements just in case...”

“There’s something there you might not wish to see?”

Hermione nodded stiltedly, noticing Theo’s expression which was sympathetic.

Thoros gazed over at Muriel and she nodded once, so he spoke up with a soothing edge to his voice.

“I would understand if you not wish the help from myself or my son, but we would be willing to attend if you required it.”

Hermione stiffened and then let out a soft sigh. “That’s very kind of you, Lord Nott, but I’m unsure what enchantments are upon the property.”

Thoros cleared his throat and nodded in silent understanding. “I could see where that might be an issue. However, it might be wise to have the Goblins send in a curse breaker with you. William Weasley is rather proficient and a member of this family. I’m sure he could make arrangements to go with you through the wards.”

Hermione shook her head in embarrassment and moaned softly. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Harry and Theo chuckled at her.

“You can’t think of everything, Hermione.” Theo grinned.

“Don’t tell her that,” Harry teased, “she’ll even be more unbearable if she thinks she doesn’t know or understand something.”

“Harry!” She hissed, ignoring the light chuckles of everyone around the table.

It was a few minutes later the pastries were served. The currant scones and clotted cream looked divine.

Thoros hummed as he took a small bite of one. “Still the best.” He nodded pleased.

“Our lands have been blessed with the addition of new family.” Muriel responded cryptically.

Thoros eyed her with a small nod. “I would imagine it’d be so.” Was all he said in response before taking a sip of his tea, which had been refreshed. His gaze landed on the Prewett Heiress and he smiled. “Tell me about your OWLS. Theo received his just yesterday. I was pleased to see that he received OWLS in all his subjects.”

Hermione smiled widely at her cousin, noticing his blush at the obvious praise from his Father.

“I received ten outstandings and one exceeds expectations in Defense. Perhaps if we’d had some consistency in that subject, I might’ve done better.”

“And not had to run clandestine defense clubs either, right, Hermione?” Theo smirked and then added, “You too, Potter.”

“We had no choice, Theo.” Hermione admitted with a scowl. “Umbridge was a right menace.”

“And got her just desserts?” He barbed back, causing Hermione to straighten her spine stiffly and nod.

“She used an illegal blood quill in her detention practices on Harry. She’s lucky that’s _all_ that happened to her.”

Thoros boomed out a laugh and even Muriel smiled at the fierce expression on her Granddaughter’s face. Theo just nodded in agreement.

“The woman was a right menace.”

“I noticed you didn’t join her little squad, Nott.” Harry asked with a lifted eyebrow.

“Studying is more important that running around the castle with Filch.”

Harry chuckled and nodded. “True enough.”

“Quite impressive OWL scores, my dear,” Thoros nodded in Hermione’s direction, “do you have a favorite subject at school?”

“All of them.” Harry piped in, earning another scowl from his sister while Theo just chuckled.

“_Rude_,” she quipped back before answering the question. “But yes, Lord Nott. Harry is correct even if his delivery lacks a certain finesse.”

“Hey!”

“It’s true.” Hermione grinned at her brother and he pouted.

“You two really are like siblings, aren’t you?” Theo asked intrigued.

“Yes.” Hermione admitted with a scoff. “Skeeter was rather insistent that Harry and I were romantically involved and I know certain Slytherin classmates of yours liked to perpetuate that fallacy. But we are siblings. Apparently, we were always this way, even as babes according to my Mother and our Godfather.”

Theo and Thoros seemed taken aback. “Black was both of your Godfather’s?” Theo inquired and Hermione nodded.

“Yes. He was the one who left me with my adoptive parents, apparently. My mother Marlene, was Harry’s Godmother.”

Thoros cleared his throat and nodded sadly. “I do believe I owe you both condolences on the loss of your Godfather. What happened to Sirius was a travesty.”

“I didn’t think you were a fan of Sirius?” Harry asked with a hard edge to his voice, earning a subtle shake of the head from Muriel.

“Black and I didn’t exactly run in the same social circles, it’s true. At least not after he was blasted off his family’s tree and went to go live with the Potter’s at sixteen. I graduated from Hogwarts many years prior, my own Father went to school with the man you knew as Tom Riddle. It is easy to judge, Mr. Potter without proper context. Sirius was a Black, and as such he was raised to believe all the same ideals that many of us within the Aristocracy valued as truth. But his Mother Walburga, was _insane_ by all accounts. It was rather common within the Black family. Bellatrix was another. Sirius had his moments. He was obstinate, stubborn and prideful. But no one who knew Black, ever believed for a moment he really betrayed your parents, Mr. Potter. So you should ask yourself, why was he allowed to whither in Azkaban for twelve years, without a trial of his peers?”

Harry’s face blanched and he gazed over at Muriel, who nodded subtly.

“Are you saying the Ministry allowed him to suffer knowing he didn’t betray my Mum and Dad?”

“I’m saying, Mr. Potter, that your current Headmaster was and still is fairly well connected inside the Ministry. Connected enough that he could have used his power and influence to demand a trial for Black and it would’ve likely, been granted. After the Dark Lord fell, there were a slew of quick trials. Many of those who were found guilty were sentenced accordingly. The Lestranges, Crouch Jr., Yaxley, Rookwood to name a few.”

“Dolohov.” Hermione added in with a grimace and Thoros sighed and nodded again.

“He was a foul man, even when he was younger.”

“You _knew_ him?”

Thoros nodded. “I went to school with him. He wasn’t one of the Dark Lord’s original Knights of Walpurgis. That dubious honor belonged to my Father, Lucius Malfoy’s Father, Lestrange’s Father, Avery’s Father and Rosier’s Father. Later on, there were additions to his following. The Blacks, Rookwoods, Mulcibers to name a few. Riddle was good at collecting and pandering to those within Pureblood circles, especially within his own House, and a few select families who weren’t.”

“Why are you telling us this?” Hermione asked quietly.

“Come now, Miss Prewett. You are highly intelligent and I know there’s much that doesn’t make sense to you, correct?”

She nodded reluctantly. “Yes.”

“Research helps, but sometimes the answer isn’t always the one we want to hear.”

“You mean Dumbledore?”

Thoros didn’t reply, he just took another measured sip of his tea but Muriel didn’t speak up either, in defense of their Headmaster.

“My mother, in her Will, she told me to trust in my Grandmother. That she wouldn’t steer me wrong,”

Thoros smiled and nodded. “I would tend to agree wholeheartedly with that sentiment. From what I do remember of your Mother—she was kind, intelligent, fiercely loyal and quite powerful. She also had a bit of a vindictive streak too.”

“Really?”

Muriel chuckled at this, getting everyone’s attention as she added, “Oh yes. I do believe that is where you get your devious tendencies, dearest. Marlene was rather, shall we say? Creative? When she was displeased with someone.”

Hermione grinned. “Who was it?”

Muriel’s smile turned rather evil as she glanced at Harry and then said, “I do believe both Sirius and James felt her wrath on a few occasions. You should ask Remus to tell you exactly why that happened.”

Harry smiled and said, “We will do that.”

“Is there anything I or my son can do to help you both through this transition?” Thoros inquired pleasantly, and Hermione shook her head.

“No, but thank you, Lord Nott. I’m sure as you can understand, this is all a very confusing time for me. I’ve been subjected to much unkindness due to perceived heritage issues and it makes it both difficult and a bit surreal for me to know how to respond to such overtures. I’m sure you’re sincere, and you’ve been polite and oddly more forthcoming than I expected...”

“But you don’t trust me and that’s not likely to change due to my past affiliations?”

Hermione shrugged but didn’t deny it, and Thoros nodded at her surprising candor. 

He could respect it, even if he wished for something different.

“And Theodore? Do you hold him in the same regard?”

Hermione’s blue eyes lifted to Theo, who seemed to be bracing himself for rejection and she smiled warmly and shook her head in the negative. “I’ve never had an issue with Theo. He’s always been aloof, but he’s that way with everyone I think?”

Theo smirked and nodded. “Self-preservation.”

Everyone chuckled and Hermione nodded in understanding. “I would very much like to know Theo, if he would allow it.”

The smile on Theo’s face was genuine and relieved as he nodded in return. “I’d like that, Hermione. Very much.”

Thoros smiled softly at the children and tilted his head in thanks to Muriel, who returned the subtle gesture.

“I’m very _pleased_.” Was all Thoros said and the rest of the conversation for the remainder of the afternoon flowed easily between the small group.

It would seem that Hermione and Harry had another member to add to their growing family and it was also clear to see that Theo was almost in as much need of family as Harry had been their first year. Harry and Theo eventually found themselves outside, grabbing their brooms and heading over to the new Quidditch Pitch while Thoros walked with Muriel, observing the grounds of Fosgate Hall with a shrewd gaze.

“She’s _powerful_. I must admit I was skeptical, but seeing this here lets me know that your Granddaughter is indeed everything that has been speculated upon.”

“So, the vipers are circling already?”

Thoros chuckled. “Are you surprised, Muriel? Your Granddaughter is a Sorceress. The first in over six hundred years. Competition for her hand will be fierce, you know this.”

Muriel chuckled, which earned a curious look from Thoros.

“Ah, that is an interesting set of circumstances, Thoros. Her Mother was far more cunning than even I could have given her credit for.”

“What do you mean?”

“In Marlene’s Will, she made it abundantly clear that there would be no precedence given to any betrothal contracts. None at all.”

Thoros smirked evilly. “So all the McKinnon and Prewett wealth?”

“Will be Hermione’s to do with as she sees fit. She will choose her mate, from magic alone. The choice, is her’s alone.”

“And you are alright with this?”

Muriel’s glare made it very clear that she was more than alright with it.

“You have met my Granddaughter, Thoros? Tell me this? Do you think she would welcome such interference on my behalf?”

“No, she would not.”

“Have you received any indication of what families are interested?”

“Adrian Pucey will most certainly make his intentions known. He was rather taken with her the day we saw you at Gringotts.”

“And the Malfoy Heir?”

Thoros chuckled deeply and shook his head. “I don’t believe so.” Muriel’s gaze was surprised as she silently encouraged Thoros to continue. “Apparently, your Granddaughter, punched him third year and broke his nose in a fit of pique.”

The genuine laughter coming from the Prewett matriarch wasn’t unexpected, but Thoros had to smile as he’d not seen Muriel this light in a very long time.

“Good for her.” Was all she said and Thoros had to agree.

There were many times he’d wished over the years to punch Lucius Malfoy in his pompous face. But he would never speak of it.

“Theodore witnessed it apparently. Hermione called Draco, and I quote..._’a foul evil cockroach.’_

Muriel threw her head back and laughed joyously and Thoros couldn’t help but join in. He hadn’t been able to respond in the way he’d wished earlier when Theo had admitted the truth in Gringotts; but now he didn’t need to hold back.

Hermione, as well as Theo and Harry all stopped and stared at the older couple as they were lost in their good humor. Theo just shook his head in shock, as he flew closer to Potter and said, “I’ve never seen my Father like that.”

They both stared down at Hermione, who was watching the scene with a quizzical expression, before she shrugged and continued to pick flowers into her basket.

“How is she really doing?” Theo asked curiously and Harry shrugged.

“Dunno, she’s good at keeping her emotions in check.”

Theo nodded. “She always has been. Well, except when it comes to Draco.”

Harry didn’t know why, but that comment made his gut clench with worry. 

There was simply no way he could’ve known how spot on his instincts were—until it was too late.


	17. Letting the Magic Choose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione receives an invitation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and reviews. Hopefully you’re liking this story!

The goodbyes were much more genuine and warm than the greetings had been earlier in the day and both Harry and Hermione had promised to owl Theo and have him over frequently over the summer if he’d wished to visit. Theo had shaken Harry’s hand and given Hermione a bow...then been shocked when she’d enveloped him into a warm hug. 

Harry had just said, “You’ll get used to it.”

And Theo had to wonder if he would.

But he’d like to think so.

When they were back at Nott Manor, Thoros had clamped a firm hand onto his Son’s shoulder and said, “I’m happy for you Son.”

Theo swallowed and nodded, but didn’t respond as he watched his Father head for his own study to send out some correspondence. Theo just made his way to his bedroom and pondered over the events of the day.

He’d been impressed with both Hermione and Potter, and had seen the genuine affection and care they felt for one another. Theo had felt a twinge of jealousy as he’d never had that kind of camaraderie with anyone. 

But now?

He’d like to think that would change and he’d finally have a bit of family for his own.

When he got to his room, his owl ‘_Boris_’ was waiting with a letter. He took it and gave Boris a treat before sitting down and reading the missive. The wax seal had him rolling his eyes, as he’d immediately noticed the Malfoy crest. The Malfoy owl had probably left some time ago and Boris was watching over the letter like he always did.

When Theo opened it, he was surprised to see the missive was from Narcissa Malfoy. She was inviting him to a garden party in two weeks at Malfoy Manor, and Theo groaned. It was the official beginning of the summer season that would last from late July until late August. There would be parties, balls and social events from every family. He’d tried very hard to not attend these over the years—except to the ones he just couldn’t avoid. 

As he stared morosely at the parchment, he belatedly realized that it was highly likely that Hermione would probably receive an invitation too, and she wouldn’t know what to think. Theo didn’t know if Potter would be included. He wasn’t a Pureblood, but he was now a de facto member of House Prewett and would be seen as Hermione’s brother. 

It would be very bad form not to include him after all.

He walked downstairs and knocked on his Father’s study, waiting until he’d been given permission to enter and was surprised when he walked in to find Lucius Malfoy sitting across from his Father’s desk with a glass of firewhiskey in his hand.

The elder Malfoy bowed in greeting while Thoros just gave his Son the look that Theo had come to recognize as amused disgust. It was clear this visit hadn’t been of his Father’s doing.

“What can I do for you, Son?”

Theo walked over and held out the invitation to his Father, who read it and smirked at Lucius.

“Narcissa is opening the season at Malfoy Manor this year?”

Lucius sighed, but nodded. “It was entirely her idea, Thoros. You know how she loves to throw a party.”

“And how you can’t tell her ‘_no_’ old friend?”

Lucius smirked but didn’t deny it. Everyone knew that Narcissa Malfoy was a force of nature and not a witch to be trifled with. Her beauty was only secondary to her Slytherin Nature, which was _formidable_.

“Father, I realized that it might be prudent to see if I could return to our earlier guests? Briefly? I can’t imagine this is going to go over very well, and she may have questions.”

Thoros sighed and nodded in return, heading over to the floo and calling out for Fosgate Hall. It was a few minutes before Muriel was summoned by her house elf.

“Thoros. Did we forget something?”

“No, Muriel. Theo just received a missive to the opening garden party to be held at Malfoy Manor in two weeks time. He was wondering if Hermione had received her’s yet?”

There was a loud crash in the background and then a surprised yelp, which sounded a lot like Potter’s voice...causing Muriel to chuckle. 

“I do believe she just received it. Please tell Theo he is welcome to come over and smooth the way, if he is brave enough to deal with the possible fallout.”

Thoros looked behind him and saw Theo pale a bit, before nodding once. “He will come right over Muriel.”

“Excellent.” Her eyes glowed bright in the flames for a moment and then she was gone.

Theo moved over and called out for Fosgate Hall, before he was whisked away in the flames.

Lucius sat back and considered this new development with a placid expression born of ease.

“You attended tea at Fosgate Hall today?”

“We did,” Thoros replied, “it was a very _enlightening_ experience.”

Lucius just lifted a dark eyebrow at that, waiting for Thoros to continue. The elder wizard just chuckled at said, “Don’t tell me you aren’t curious?”

Lucius shrugged. “Under normal circumstances I might be, if I didn’t know what I do. That being said, Draco seems to have little interest in pursuing the witch. Not that I think he’d get anywhere for his troubles. Their history is rather well known.”

“And the Potter boy detests you rather fiercely too.”

“There is that.”

“With good reason?”

Lucius sighed but didn’t respond to the bait, deciding on a different tactic.

“The _lands_ at Fosgate Hall?”

The even stare Thoros leveled at him let Lucius know that the wizard wasn’t going to okay this game with him.

“I see.” Was all Lucius said, and Thoros just shook his head at the Lord of House Malfoy.

“Lucius, you’ve never been one to sit back and allow things to happen. Don’t think I didn’t know about the Diary incident the children’s second year. Although I do believe if you’d known what it truly was, you might’ve had second thoughts.”

“You _knew?”_

“My Father guessed many years ago. I do believe your Father knew however, and that was why he encouraged you to put that little book into Miss Weasley’s cauldron in Diagon Alley? The fight with Arthur Weasley was a rather ingenious distraction.”

“You were there?”

“Yes, with Theodore. Although even back then, Mr. Potter didn’t like you at all. Now he’s the brother of the young Heiress to House Prewett and McKinnon.”

“Until she accepts a betrothal contract.”

Thoros chuckled, his eyes amused as he shook his head. “Didn’t your own Son tell you the good news?”

Lucius blanched as he stared at his old friend. “What news?”

“Marlene McKinnon. The lost will of the McKinnon family was read at Sirius Will reading. The exact particulars I’m unsure of, but Marlene McKinnon announced in her Will that her daughter and Heiress, would not be accepting of any betrothal contracts ever without her say so. Which means...”

“Merlin!” Lucius whispered in awe. “They are allowing the magic to choose for her?”

“Yes. The lands at Fosgate are teeming with renewed life. Unlike anything I’ve ever seen. It looks like something out of a Wizarding fairytale. The sprites, fairies—all are alive on the grounds attending to the gardens, woods and streams. Her powers likely manifested during the bonding of the Potter boy into the House itself and the magic of the land accepted her. If I’d had any doubts as to her heritage—seeing and feeling the magic there...” Thoros shook his head in wonder.

“You felt her power?”

“I felt a power unlike anything I’ve ever felt. You were right. The Dark Lord would’ve _never_ survived. Never. She is unbounded to an ancillary and yet her powers are stable. That is unprecedented. Theo surmised that she was likely a fire elemental based upon what happened back at school. I’m unsure of how aware you are of elemental magic Lucius, but there is only one kind of elemental that would have the power to manifest without the need of a bonded.”

Lucius nodded, well aware of what that was. He’d seen it, in all its glory.

A Phoenix.

Thoros hummed and nodded again. “Now I understand the unbreakable vow a bit better. Dumbledore allowed you to retain the memory of Hermione’s transformation. How curious he would do such a thing, don’t you think?”

The question in Thoros voice belied the hard glint in his eye. 

There was an edge of distrust there.

“I do not know why, old friend. I don’t know much of anything where that old coot is concerned.”

“Hmmm...it’s likely he didn’t think he’d have enough sway to send you off to Azkaban along with our fellow brethren. You’ve already proven you can maneuver yourself out of such things. So he bound you. It makes little sense.”

“Don’t you think I’ve asked myself that question daily.”

“Have you come up with any answers?”

“None that make sense. He wants me to owe him. That much is clear but beyond that? I just have no idea how that man thinks.”

“No one does, Lucius,” Thoros admitted with a grimace, “it was a source of great frustration to the Dark Lord for many years. We both saw it. Riddle was incensed that he couldn’t get past the barrier of Dumbledore and then the Prophecy of the Potter boy.”

“Do you honestly think that was all there was to it?”

“No. I know it wasn’t. It doesn’t explain why your wife and son failed to inform you about the Will reading though, does it?”

“No, but it hardly matters now.”

“No, you’re right. Things are in motion that will change the very fabric of our world as we know it. I for one, have done what I can to make sure my Son has a place in the new order. Hermione has accepted Theo into her circle, as has Potter. I can do no more for my family than this.”

“And you’ve accepted it?”

“I have.” Thoros said firmly. “I never subscribed to Riddle’s plans for mass genocide. The man was clearly unhinged even before his reincarnation. I may not support Muggleborn witches and wizard’s into our world, but even I understand that a social hierarchy requires a construct, and different classes. We will breed ourselves out of existence if we don’t learn to adapt old friend. Surely you understand this more than most.”

“I do, but it doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“No, but it does mean that you need to find a way to reconcile it as truth. Changes are coming. We can either adapt or die out. For Theo’s sake, I intend to support the former. We can still have what we desire in the end.”

“Which is?”

“A better world for our children, Lucius. You can’t tell me you don’t wish that for your Son.”

“It’s all I’ve ever wanted for Draco. I tried to protect him the best I knew how, Thoros. What more could I have done than what my Father required of me?”

“Both of our Father’s made choices for us that we wouldn’t have necessarily made for ourselves. That being said, you need to make sure that your Son understands the value of discretion and patience. Theo has shared with me on many an occasion Draco’s penchant for causing trouble and alienating those in school. As a Malfoy, he should seek to show passively his superiority instead of bludgeoning those around him with it. I know his rivalry with the Potter boy hasn’t helped, but surely Narcissa didn’t raise her son to be so...”

Lucius waved his hand away, as if he’d heard enough. “Your words are taken to heart, Thoros. Draco understands that he needs to do better. He is a natural leader, but perhaps we’ve coddled him too much.”

“I would agree.”

“Theodore doesn’t seem to suffer from ill feelings?”

“He’s a bit of a loner. Which has served him well up to this point.”

Lucius nodded thoughtfully. “Have you thought about a betrothal contract for your Son?”

Thoros sighed, but shook his head. “No. Theodore hasn’t expressed any interest so far in anyone.”

“Do you think he’s?”

Thoros chuckled but shook his head in the negative. “Apparently Mr. Zabini procures Playwitch magazines for the boys at school. His mother, being whom she is? It’s hardly a surprise, but I’ve found a few of them that my Son thinks I don’t know about. So no, Theodore definitely likes girls.”

“When do you think he might return?”

Thoros gazed at the floo with a put upon expression. “Unsure. But I have every confidence that Muriel will not allow Miss Prewett to incinerate my Heir. Regardless of how she might feel about attending a function at Malfoy Manor with your Son.”

Lucius scoffed, but didn’t reply which Thoros thought wise. Unfortunately, Theo wasn’t having much success at Fosgate Hall at all in calming his cousin down.

_Elsewhere..._

“I’m _not_ going!” Hermione screeched out as she threw her shoe at Theo’s head in anger. “I am not going to put a bloody smile upon my face and play nice with Draco Malfoy!”

Harry sat huddled in the corner, behind a rather strong shield charm as a few things had bounced harmlessly against it before falling to the floor in pieces. Muriel had walked into Hermione’s room, tutted unhappily and left Theo and Harry to deal with the emotional girl.

“Hermione,” Theo’s voice was calm and placating, but her eyes narrowed at the tone, “Harry was invited too. It’s not as if you have to go alone? And I’ll be there too. It would be really nice to have someone to talk to at one of these things. I don’t like going either, but I have no choice.”

“There’s always a choice, Theodore Nott!”

Theo sighed and glanced over at Potter, who just grinned and shook his head. 

_Git_.

He wasn’t going to get involved.

“How about a deal?”

Hermione’s gaze narrowed even further as she eyed him with skepticism.

“What kind of a deal?”

“You attend this soirée with Harry and I. For one hour. If you don’t want to stay, we make up some excuse and we leave. One hour, Hermione. I’m sure you can not kill Draco for an hour.”

She scoffed and shook her head. “I’ve never been in the ferrets presence for more than a few moments without wanting to hex his arse.”

“Well, that’s not true, Mione.”

Hermione turned and glared at her brother. “Shut it, Harry!” She then smirked and waved her hand, dropping Harry’s shield like it was nothing. “That’s rude!”

Theo choked out a gasp as he asked, “Did you just bring down his shield charm silently and wandlessly?

“Obviously.” Hermione drawled arrogantly, and Harry burst into laughter.

“Impressive.” Theo grinned. “What else can you do?”

“I’m not a side show freak, Nott!”

The confused look on Theo’s face had Hermione backpedaling a bit.

“What’s a side show?”

“It’s like a circus act, mate.” Harry replied easily and Theo hummed in understanding.

“Hermione, you’re not a freak.” Theo admonished with a tsk. “You weren’t before, and you’re definitely not now. But where’s your wand?”

Hermione and Harry exchanged a glance, which Theo caught and he waited to see what the outcome of their silent exchange was. Then he realized something.

“Can you?”

Hermione sighed and then spoke clearly into Theo’s mind and he gasped in shock as he sat down wide-eyed.

“A legilimens?”

“No, I don’t think it’s that simple. More like telepathic.”

“That’s not possible.” Theo hissed out in shock.

Hermione waved her hand and opened her window to the evening sky, which was near twilight. She then glided to her balcony and moved over the edge before walking out into the open air. When she turned, she couldn’t help but giggle at the dumbstruck look on Theo’s face.

“You’re a telekinetic too?”

She nodded and then put her hands out and Theo watched in astonishment as flames moved over her hands, arms and hair. Her eyes lit up with fire and then just as quickly as it’d begun—she was standing next to him on the balcony.

He touched her arm softly and shook his head in wonder.

“It’s not possible.”

Hermione shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know what’s possible anymore.” Her gaze moved to Harry’s and Theo could see the worry reflected there. It was obvious neither one of them knew much about this kind of elemental magic.

Theo cleared his throat before he spoke. “Hermione, do you know anything about elemental magic?”

“Some,” she admitted, “Bill explained a bit about being a fire elemental.”

“This is more than that though, isn’t it?”

Hermione nodded slowly, and Harry came over to pull his sister into his embrace. The trio all sat down together in silence while Theo processed all he’d seen.

“So, I’m going to explain a few things. It’s not much mind you, but most Pureblood’s know about elemental magic. It’s a very rare gift. I’m sure as you’re aware, the last true elemental was a witch, born over 600 years ago. The elements of air, earth, fire and water are such that each comes with its own inherent power. An earth elemental has power only over the flora and fauna of the earth. A water elemental has the power of the seas, but can heal and generate storms and influence the seasons. An air elemental can have some measure of control over certain elements like rain, wind, storms, tides and seasonal changes as well. But a fire elemental, has the power of all of these to an extent. Fire is life. It is the most unpredictable element by virtue of its unstable nature. Water is balance, earth is stability, air is harmony but fire is life.”

“Bill mentioned something to that affect.” Hermione replied uneasily.

“That’s good. I need to ask a question, and please don’t get upset—but are you bonded?”

Hermione’s face pinched and she shook her head, which caused Theo to whoosh out a whistle in appreciation.

“Your powers manifested and you aren’t bonded to an ancillary? Merlin’s beard, Hermione...you’re a Phoenix fire elemental...aren’t you?”

Hermione’s face paled and Harry’s expression darkened as he moved over quickly between Nott and his sister—his wand at the other wizard’s throat.

Theo put up his hands and said, “I’m not going to hurt her, Potter. I’ll take a wand oath to the effect.”

Hermione placed her hand on Harry’s arm and gently shook her head at him. He lowered his wand and took a step back.

“Sorry, mate, but it’s not common knowledge.”

Theo chuckled at Harry’s cluelessness. “Of course it will be, Potter. Most Pureblood families will put the pieces together soon enough. Many may assume she’s bonded to you, but once the nature of your true relationship comes out? It will only be a matter of time.”

“So what does that mean?”

“I’m assuming in your Mother’s Will, she didn’t specify any kind of betrothal?”

Hermione shook her head and Theo whistled again. “She and your Father decided to allow your own magic to choose for you.”

“What does that mean?” Harry asked, as he sat down next to Hermione—both giving Theo their undivided attention.

“A Sorceress, when her powers manifest will usually immediately bond with an ancillary either during the manifestation or right after. In the past, dependent upon the power it would require an ancillary to balance the power. The fact that your magic is stable enough that you didn’t need an ancillary for your powers to manifest means that either your bonded wasn’t at the Ministry when they manifested, or he’s not of age yet and therefore his own powers haven’t reached their full potential.”

Both Harry and Hermione were confused. “What do you mean?”

Theo just smiled indulgently, realizing his cousin was woefully ignorant of so much of the Magical World and for a girl who’d read and absorbed information like a sponge—it was both comical and distressing.

“Wizards and witches don’t come into their full potential until they reach seventeen. Their magic is fully matured at that point. It’s why we are considered adults at seventeen, because it takes that many years for our magical cores to settle and stabilize. It’s why we learn to apparate at that age. You can’t do so if your core isn’t stable enough for that kind of magical discharge.”

Hermione sat back stunned. “Why don’t they teach us this at Hogwarts?”

Theo raised an eyebrow and grinned. “You know why, cousin.”

“Dumbledore?”

Theo nodded but didn’t say anymore, although Harry decided to speak up after a moment.

“So if I’m understanding you correctly, Hermione’s bonded or potential bonded is likely not of age yet? Will her magic stay stable until whomever that wizard is turns seventeen?”

Theo shrugged again. “Unknown. I would tend to think it might start to fluctuate again if the time between her seventeenth birthday and her bonded is rather distant. But I would surmise that whomever it is, you’ll probably sense it at some point. Your powers have only just manifested, so I would imagine you’ll get a sense of whom your bonded is before too long.”

“And what if she doesn’t want her bonded?” Harry asked with a grin.

“Magic doesn’t work like that, Potter. But I would tend to think if Hermione was that vehemently opposed to someone, her magic wouldn’t choose him...nor him, her’s.”

Both Harry and Hermione sighed in relief, not realizing that Theo was completely incorrect in his assumption.


	18. The Garden Party

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things at Malfoy Manor don’t exactly go how anyone expects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who’ve read, reviewed and left a kudo.

In the lead up to the Malfoy’s garden party, Hermione spent an inordinate amount of time with Molly Weasley going over etiquette and what to expect for her first official foray into Pureblood society. Hermione had listened, asked many questions and then barricaded herself inside her room obsessing over how everything had changed so drastically.

The one bright spot of her new life, (other than Harry) had been Theo. He came over almost daily, just to check in but often they’d sit and discuss everything from Magical theory to Quidditch to his Housemates.

It was interesting getting Theo’s perspective on his fellow Slytherins.

Crabbe and Goyle were really as clueless as they appeared. They weren’t particularly bright, nor magically strong but according to Theo, Crabbe was rather a dab hand at Transfiguration while Goyle preferred charms. But what had surprised Hermione the most, was that Malfoy helped them with most of their subjects. When Hermione and Harry had scoffed at that unexpected tidbit, Theo had shrugged and then replied, “Draco is loyal to those who are loyal to him.”

Hermione had always known that Malfoy was intelligent. He had always been nipping at her heels for the best marks in their classes and was actually a bit better than her in Potions. When Theo let the bomb drop, that Snape was Malfoy’s Godfather, Harry had muttered, “That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

It hadn’t really surprised her either.

Theo then shared about his other classmates. 

Parkinson was as big of a bitch as she appeared and was obsessed with Draco. Daphne Greengrass was polite, but didn’t associate with anyone outside of Slytherin and _adored_ her younger sister Astoria. Tracy Davis was quiet, and rather shy according to Theo. Being a half-blood, some of the other students weren’t as accepting of her but since Slytherin’s took care of their own, it wasn’t something you’d ever see outside their common room. Millicent Bulstrode was a bully to everyone. House affiliation or not, she just was an unhappy girl.

Along with Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle—Zabini was a Pureblood—but he was haughty and aloof on a good day. He didn’t tend to get involved in Slytherin politics, and was on generally good terms with everyone but didn’t associate with anyone on a regular basis. His closest ally was Malfoy, although according to Theo, Blaise was rather good mates with the blonde. Adrian Pucey was friendly to those inside and outside his House and was generally liked by most everyone. Marcus Flint was a prick. Miles Bletchley, Terrence Higgs, Bradley Vaisey and Graham Montague were other wizard’s who seemed to spend most of their free time playing Quidditch and chasing witches.

Hermione and Harry got a crash course in Slytherin politics in the space of two weeks.

Theo mentioned there would be other Purebloods at the party too, from other houses. Ernie McMillan, Cormac McLaggen, Emerson Rosier, Zacharias Smith, Buckley Burke, Jeremiah Abbott and Neville Longbottom. Some of the witches from other houses that had attended in past years had included Cho Chang, Marietta Edgecombe, Hannah Abbott and this year would likely include Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood.

Harry had laughed and said that there was no way Ron would come to something like this and Theo had chuckled, agreeing. He and also mentioned since Hermione’s return to Pureblood Society, it would be hard for some of the old families to not snub the Weasley’s anymore. Arthur’s inheritance from Sirius had been reported extensively on, so that was another factor that would be considered as it was likely the Weasley’s would at least have some resources to offer a bride dowry for their only daughter. Hermione had scoffed at this and rolled her eyes, but Theo had been quick to remind her that this was how it was done in Pureblood society, and it wasn’t likely to change.

When the date for the garden party had arrived, Molly had been busy but Andromeda had offered to come over and help Hermione get ready for her first official outing.

Hermione was also anxious to talk with Tonk’s mum.

The set of dress robes that Andromeda had picked out were a lovely shade of pewter acromantula silk. The top of the dress was fitted and had capped sheer sleeves, and the skirt had a sheer light silver overlay while the underskirt had various colors within the same color scheme as the top. The heels were grey silk, three inch stilettos that Andromeda had charmed for comfort while also using a permanent stabilizing charm so she wouldn’t trip.

As they were doing Hermione hair, the younger witch felt the need to ask the questions that had been weighing on her mind as of late.

“Andromeda, I’ve been wondering something?”

The older witch’s grey eyes looked at her through the mirror and they were amused.

“And what would that be, Hermione?”

“Well, you seemed to be aware of Sirius plan to close the Black Family vaults, amongst other things. You also don’t seem to be a fan of Dumbledore. I was just wondering why that was?”

Hermione watched Andromeda’s expression closely, but the witch gave nothing away as she fussed with her hair for a few more moments before speaking.

“I knew your Parents rather well. Fabian was a force of nature, but Marlene was a singular witch. She really could’ve been sorted into any of the four houses and done well for herself. She had all the best qualities of each. She confided in me at one time when she and Sirius were dating, that the sorting hat had been rather adamant about in putting her into Ravenclaw or Slytherin, but she’d argued with it until it put her into Gryffindor.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Andromeda smiled as she finished her hair. “From what I understand, you were a bit of a hat stall yourself.”

“I was.” Hermione admitted easily. “The sorting hat had the same placements in mind for me, but I wanted to be known for more than my intellect and believing myself to be a Muggleborn, I didn’t think I’d be welcome in Slytherin.”

“You wouldn’t have been.”

“Good to know I was right.” She bit out sarcastically and Andromeda chuckled and nodded.

“Slytherin is an entity unto itself. Those placed within its domain understand from their youngest years in life what it means to adhere to self-preservation above all else. Friendships are rare in Slytherin, but loyalty is something that is at its heart. Slytherin’s are loyal to each other because the other houses are quite prejudiced against them. It’s ironic actually, that the cycle of bigotry that runs amok at Hogwarts isn’t strictly one sided.”

“That’s not true.”

“_Isn’t it?” _Andromeda lifted a indulgent eyebrow in response. “Think about it, Hermione. Really, truly think about it? Why do you think Slytherin’s keep to themselves? Yes, they are mostly Pureblood, but not all are raised to be blood purists like my family was. Have you ever seen any one of your friends from Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw befriending anyone from Slytherin?”

“No, but it’s not as if they make it easy.”

“No, this is true. Look at Theodore Nott though. He’s not exactly the hateful, prejudiced wizard you’d thought he was, true?”

She shook her head. “No, Theo is rather a pleasant surprise. I like him quite a bit.”

“And I’m sure if you give it a chance, you might find others within Slytherin worthy of your friendship.”

“_Not Malfoy._” Hermione huffed under her breath after a few seconds, causing Andromeda to smile knowingly.

“He’s my nephew.”

Hermione blushed as she bit her lip. “Sorry, Meda. But he’s a _git.”_

The elder Black daughter laughed out loud at the young witch’s expression of disgust. 

She didn’t think any witch would have ever said something of the sort about her nephew. 

Oh, Andromeda knew how spoilt and indulged Draco Malfoy was. From the rumors, she knew her nephew was intelligent, handsome, proud, pompous and the epitome of his Father’s temperament and his Mother’s cunning. He’d grown up at Lucius knee and the only saving grace her brother-in-law had, was his fierce devotion to his family. Everyone within Pureblood circles knew the story of Lucius and Narcissa’s romance and Andromeda couldn’t help but smile in remembrance of the suffering her sister had put the aristocratic Malfoy through, before she’d agreed to his courtship.

Hermione noticed the subtle grin on Andromeda’s face, and her curiosity got the better of her.

“Did I miss something?”

Andromeda chuckled, but shook her head. “No, not really. I was just remembering Narcissa saying something quite similar at one point about Lucius.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes. She _detested_ him, or so it seemed growing up. He used to tease her mercilessly and was often unkind when they were children. He would say cruel things to get her attention, because she’d ignore him. When Narcissa was in her fifth year, she was heavily courted by many a wizard. She had her choice of suitors.”

Hermione’s expression was surprised by that admission. Thinking back on what Molly had shared about Bellatrix, Hermione asked, “Molly shared with me about Rodolphus.”

Andromeda’s expression darkened, but she nodded all the same. “Yes. He was a _hateful_ wizard even then, but when Molly ran off with Arthur? He was incensed. I had been secretly dating Ted by that point, and Bellatrix had no offers for her hand. She was rather obsessed with the Dark Lord, and wanted no other suitors. Their marriage, wasn’t a happy one.”

“And you were to be given to Rabastan?”

Andromeda sighed and nodded. “Yes. That’s why Ted and I married right after graduation. It was clear my family had every intention of selling me off to the Lestrange’s and as horrible as Rodolphus was, Rabastan wasn’t much better.”

“Did you know Dolohov back then?”

“Yes. He was a _vile_ man. Rather obsessed with the Dark Arts and a gifted curse breaker. Worked for Gringotts.” Andromeda’s expression fell, and Hermione grabbed her arm questioningly.

“What?”

The older witch sat down and wrung her hands nervously, not making eye contact for a few moments but when she did, her grey eyes were haunted.

“Dolohov had become fixated on one particular witch at one point. She was quite younger than he was, but he’d pursued her _relentlessly_. She wasn’t open to his advances, and had actively dated another wizard for a bit. They were friends. Good friends, but never more than that, although everyone thought it was more. When they stopped spending time together, Dolohov stepped up his pursuit again but by that point she’d gotten involved with another wizard. He became enraged and actively sought to end the wizard’s life. It was never proven, but I believe Dolohov was also behind the death of the witch...and her family.”

Hermione paled and swallowed in horror, feeling that she already knew the answer but her damn curiosity had her asking the question regardless.

“And the witch?”

Andromeda smiled sadly. “I think you know who she was, Hermione.”

The younger witch’s breath caught. “My Mother?” She whispered out and Andromeda nodded.

“And my Father?”

“Killed by Dolohov and four other wizards. All sent to Azkaban for it.”

“My Mother didn’t just go into hiding because of me, did she?”

Andromeda shook her head. “You were the biggest part of it, but that was why they married in secret. Somehow, Dolohov found out and if rumor is to be believed, vowed to kill them both. He was _obsessed_.”

“Dumbledore mentioned that he’d obliviated Dolohov and the other Death Eaters when they’d been sent back to Azkaban.”

Andromeda sighed again, this time her face registered anger. “Dumbledore may have done so, Hermione—but it doesn’t change certain facts and the biggest one is you’re the daughter of Marlene McKinnon and Fabian Prewett. You’re a Sorceress. There will be many a wizard wishing to have you for their own, and it’s probably a good thing Dolohov is in Azkaban and will remain there indefinitely.”

Hermione nodded slowly as she considered all that Andromeda had told her, before she said at last; “Bellatrix is dead.”

“I know. Remus and Dora told me.”

“Is that all they told you?”

“If what your asking is if I know exactly how Bellatrix died? The answer is _yes_, and I’m not sad she’s gone, Hermione. You protected yourself and Harry. You did what needed to be done.”

“Thank you for understanding, Meda.”

“Of course, dear. Now we should probably get you down to the floo room. I’m sure Harry and Theo are both waiting anxiously to escort you to your first official Pureblood outing.”

Both witches stood and walked downstairs together. Before they reached the floo room, Hermione stooped Andromeda and asked lowly, “Do you think Narcissa suspects how her sister died?”

“Yes. I’d rather think that she’s likely figured it out.”

“And?”

“Narcissa loved Bella but even so, she wasn’t ignorant as to how our sister was. I think you’ll find that Narcissa will treat you with the upmost politeness but don’t ever underestimate her, Hermione. She’s very cunning and ruthless when provoked.”

“And what would provoke her?”

“_Protecting her Son. _She would do _anything_ to see Draco safe and give him what he wants. She loves him more than anything.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

When they entered, Harry and Theo were waiting. Both were dressed rather causally in woolen trousers, buttoned down long sleeved and ties. Harry’s shirt was almost the same green as his eyes, his tie was a dark grey that matched his trousers and brand new loafers. Theo’s ensemble was nearly identical instead his button down was blue and his trousers were charcoal. 

They both looked very handsome.

“Wow, Mione—you look beautiful.” Harry grinned and Theo nodded in agreement.

“You really do.” Theo smiled and then bowed formally to Andromeda, who returned the gracious manners.

“How are you Theodore?”

“I am well.” Theo admitted easily. “I’m actually looking forward to one of these blasted parties for once.”

Everyone chuckled and Andromeda nodded in understanding. “These were never my favorite either. Just keep these two out of trouble.”

“Hey!”

“What?”

Both Harry and Hermione’s expressions were rather comical Theo thought, but he just winked at Andromeda and then led Hermione over to the fireplace. 

Before they floo’d over, Theo took her arm and said softly, “If it gets too much, just tell me to fetch you some lemonade. I’ll take that as my cue to make up a plausible excuse and get us out of there.”

“You’re a good person, Theodore Nott.”

Theo grinned and then deadpanned, “Don’t let it get around.”

“Promise.”

With one last nod to both Harry and Andromeda, Theo called out for Malfoy Manor and the green flames flashed, spiriting them away. 

Harry went to follow, but Andromeda halted him.

“Keep an eye out on your sister, Harry, and _don’t let your guard down.”_

Harry nodded. “I won’t.”

The Boy Who Lived moved over into the hearth and with a flash of green, he was gone.

When Harry re-appeared, he was in a formal floo room that was larger than the Dursley’s entire home. He stepped out and used his wand to clean off the soot from his clothes before moving over to where Hermione and Theo were waiting for him. Theo handed Hermione over, and Harry nodded his thanks as they followed the Slytherin out towards the back of the estate. The rooms were massive and both Harry and Hermione tried very hard not to stare in awe at everything. Malfoy clearly hadn’t been boasting when he’d said his home was grand.

As they came to an open balcony doorway, they followed Theo down the stone steps and out to a beautiful enclosed gardened area. The flowers were in full bloom and the hedges on the back lawn gave way what looked like an entrance to a large maze of some kind. The cherry trees were spectacular, and not something you’d see outside of a Japanese garden. There was a glistening pond and several large stone fountains dispersed throughout the garden. Canopied tents lined the large grassy area with different tables set up under each while twinkling fairy lights twinkled in the sun. There were smells of roses, freesia, lavender and jasmine. It wasn’t as beautiful as the grounds as Fosgate Hall, but it was impressive nonetheless.

When they came to the receiving line, Theo led them to where their hostess was waiting along with her son and husband. Hermione could make out several familiar faces within the throng of Purebloods in attendance. 

There was Marcus Flint talking with Terrence Higgs and Adrian Pucey. Olivia Shardlow was whispering something to Marietta Edgecombe—who was glaring her way in open dislike as she said something back to the Slytherin girl. Blaise Zabini was attending to Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode while Zacharias Smith and Ernie McMillan smiled at both she and Harry.

When it was their turn to greet their hostess, Theo made the proper introductions.

“Lord and Lady Malfoy. Thank you for inviting us here today. If I may, I’d like to formally introduce you to Mr. Harry Potter and his sister, Miss Hermione Prewett.”

Harry bowed and Hermione curtsied, both of them having had a good laugh earlier this morning on how ridiculous it was to be expected to show deference to the Malfoy’s when all they wanted to do was hex them.

“It is good to see you, Theodore.” Narcissa said politely with a small genuine smile before her blue eyes fixated on the two guests in front of her. “Mr. Potter, welcome to our home.”

“Thank you, Lady Malfoy.”

Narcissa hummed before she gave the full weight of her stare on Hermione, whom after speaking with Andromeda, didn’t flinch or back down an inch. Blue eyes met blue-grey as the two witches sized each other up and Harry realized that the chattering of voices had quieted as everyone turned to give them their undivided attention.

Hermione knew this was some sort of test. 

Andromeda had told her to wait to be addressed, so she lifted an eyebrow at the older witch, who’s own lips quirked in acknowledgment while both Lucius and Draco seemed both amused by whatever was happening.

“Miss Prewett, welcome to Malfoy Manor.”

“Thank you for having us, Lady Malfoy.”

Narcissa nodded and then gestured to her husband and son. “I’m sure you both remember my son, Draco. And this is Lord Malfoy.”

Hermione’s gaze locked onto the elder Malfoy, and her eyes hardened briefly as she took in the wizard’s smug expression.

“We’ve _met_, Lady Malfoy.”

Lucius’ gaze narrowed slightly while Draco just smirked at the both of them.

“Yes, we have.” Lucius replied pompously, as he bowed formally. “I do hope you’re finding Fosgate Hall to your liking, Miss Prewett?”

“My Grandmother has been most welcoming, as well as Mrs. Weasley. I’ve been most fortunate to have had several individuals offer their kindness during this transition. Theo for example, has been a godsend.”

Theo smirked at the compliment, as Hermione smiled fondly at her cousin.

“Theodore is an exceptional young man.” Narcissa agreed, causing Theo to blush a bit at the effusive praise. “And how has life at Fosgate Hall been treating you, Mr. Potter?”

“It’s been more than I could’ve hoped for.” Harry’s reply was clearly heart felt, and Narcissa smiled genuinely at the young lad. “Hermione has always been like a sister to me, and to know that it was _always_ supposed to be that way makes me even more grateful to have her in my life. She’s always looked out for me, now it’s my job to do the same for her.”

The Lady of the Manor smirked at the not so veiled message, as she noticed a few of the faces amongst several of the wizard’s frowning at the admission. 

Her Dragon however, was stoically listening to the conversation and not reacting at all.

“Family is what’s important, after all.” Narcissa replied easily. “Please mingle and enjoy our hospitality. We are happy to have you here today.”

“Thank you.” Harry spoke up for both of them and led Hermione away while several more people were introduced. 

It was about fifteen minutes later that Ginny showed up with Percy on her arm and introductions were made.

All told, there was probably forty witches and wizards here from Percy’s age to Ginny’s.

It was clear this was meant to serve as some kind of matchmaking party.

Harry led her over to a few of the friendly faces from the DA, including Neville and Cho.

“Hey, Harry.” Neville said happily as the two shook hands. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Well, Hermione almost refused to come.”

“Really?”

“Yes.” Hermione interjected with a scowl. “But as I was so kindly reminded by Theo, it wouldn’t do well for me to not accept the invitation even if I’d rather be flying a broom right now.”

Neville chuckled and Cho just shook her head at the look of disgust on Hermione’s face.

“Most witches would be _thrilled_ at the prospect of being here, but I can see that they’ll just let anyone into these parties nowadays.” A brittle voice said from behind her, and Hermione turned around to see Pansy Parkinson on the arm of Malfoy.

“By most witches, I’m assuming you’re talking about yourself?” Hermione replied sweetly, her gaze pointedly looking at where the two were attached.

Pansy’s smug smile was to be expected. “It must be the Muggle influence, Draco,” Pansy’s voice was filled with disdain, “Even though she may be a Pureblood now, _the stench of blood traitor is all over her.”_

Hermione rolled her eyes, before taking in Draco’s posture—which was clearly uncomfortable.

_Interesting_.

“Oh nonsense, Pansy. The stench you might be referring to is your _atrocious_ perfume that pervades over even the most fragrant bloom. You might want to lighten up on the atomizer. _Less is more.”_

Pansy’s gaze narrowed, as she snarled out, “_You’d know about being less, wouldn’t you, Granger._..oh I’m sorry...it’s Prewett now, isn’t it?”

Harry coughed out sharply and was about to say something when Hermione squeezed his arm in warning.

“A name doesn’t make the witch or wizard Parkinson, but when it’s all _you_ have I can understand how you might feel the need to overcompensate. Perfume, makeup...dress...” Hermione waved her hand at the outfit Pansy was wearing. “But I’m sure some wizard’s prefer your kind of witch? Seems that Malfoy does. I hope you both will be very happy with each other.”

Pansy’s expression was shocked, while Draco just glowered heatedly.

“Don’t you know it’s bad manners to insult your host, Prewett?” Draco drawled out lowly and Hermione couldn’t help but shake her head in response.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to insult your guests by proxy, Malfoy? If you didn’t want me here, you could have just told your Mother not to invite myself or Harry. In spite of everything, Andromeda assured me that I could at least expect proper manners from you. Parkinson here? _She’s apparently a lost cause.”_

Ignoring the look of shocked dismay from the blonde wizard, Hermione pulled Harry away and felt traitorous tears welling up in her eyes.

Theo just shook his head as he gave both of his friend’s a glare of disgust.

“That was _uncalled_ for, both of you.”

He moved quickly after Hermione and Harry, who were heading towards a table of refreshments. He could see Hermione was clearly upset, her hands were shaking as Harry gave her a glass of water.

When Theo came over, he gazed at her in worry watching as she took a deep breath trying to get ahold of her emotions.

“I’m so sorry, Theo.” She whispered sadly and he shook his head firmly.

“You don’t have to be sorry, Hermione. That was _inexcusable_. Draco knows better, and I’m afraid Pansy is always a bitch to everyone. She’s always been jealous of you.”

Hermione’s expression clearly showed she didn’t believe Theo’s words, but she wisely decided not to comment.

“Do you want to leave, Mione?”

Hermione sighed, as she could feel the weighted stares on her back. She knew what would happen if she left and never one to back down from something like this, but she frankly didn’t care what any of these people thought of her.

She’d never had.

“Theo, if I left what would the fallout from that be?”

Theo sighed and gave his cousin an impressed look. “It would be considered a slight on your Hostess, even though enough people heard that conversation, it wouldn’t look good, Hermione. Not that you, Potter nor I care one whit about that.”

“And my Grandmother?”

Theo laughed and shook his head. “Aunt Muriel would tell them all to go hang and you know it.”

Both Harry and Hermione laughed and nodded at the truth of that statement. Blue eyes met green and Hermione sighed.

“You okay with staying and trying to put up with this nonsense for a bit longer, brother?”

“Whatever you want to do, sister of mine.”

Hermione turned to Theo and nodded. “Maybe you could introduce us to some decent sorts. I’d rather not have to talk to Malfoy and his little girlfriend again.”

Theo nodded and smiled evilly. “Pansy likes to think she’s Draco’s girlfriend, but he’s never seen her as anything more than a good time.”

“As if that makes it any better, Theodore Nott!” Hermione whispered back in shock while Harry just shrugged, as if he wasn’t surprised.

“No, but it’s true. How about I introduce you to Pucey and Higgs. They’re alright, for the most part.”

“Lead on, cousin.” Hermione smiled as Theo offered his arm and she took it with alacrity. 

She wasn’t going to let Malfoy nor Parkinson intimidate her, _not anymore._


	19. Imploded

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco watches the fallout of his own stupidity.

Draco watched sullenly as Theo escorted Hermione over to Adrian Pucey and Terrence Higgs, both wizards recent graduates from Hogwarts. Both intelligent. Both handsome. Both _eligible_. And he felt his jaw lock in consternation at how foolish he’d been allowing Pansy to spew her venom on an unsuspecting Hermione.

Shaking his head at his own stupidity, Draco realized that he was in grave danger of falling back into old patterns where Hermione was concerned. Their relationship had always been contentious, mostly due to his immense dislike for Potter but also because he’d been frustrated that a supposed mudblood, had bested him year after year in nearly every subject. 

At first it had been easy to dismiss her, but after the punch in third year—Draco had not been able to shake the presence that was Hermione Granger..._now Prewett._ She had crawled under his skin and festered there, like an insidious case of Dragon Pox and he’d simply been unable to rid her from his mind.

Then fourth year had happened.

The Yule Ball and _Krum_.

It had all gone downhill from there.

He’d been jealous. Insanely so. Not because he’d fancied Granger...he hadn’t. 

Not really.

But he’d noticed her. Noticed she was a witch, and not a mudblood and it had confused him for so many reasons that he hadn’t wanted to give it much thought.

So he stubbornly hadn’t.

Somehow, during this past year at school and the knowledge that the Dark Lord had returned—Draco had come to the conclusion that his life was forfeit. He would never be allowed to simply be a carefree teenager with no emotional baggage to claim his soul. He’d be thrust into the service of the Dark Lord and that would be that.

Except that hadn’t happened.

The Dark Lord had been killed.

By a sixteen year old witch.

And Draco had heaved a heavy sigh of relief for his good fortune.

Now as he watched Pucey fawn all over said witch, he realized that somehow..._someway_...he needed to show Hermione that he wasn’t only the hateful git she’d grown up seeing him as. That there was more substance underneath his cold exterior and his Slytherin bravado.

And then he’d ruined it by allowing Pansy to humiliate her in his own home.

Hermione was right. 

_He was a terrible host._

The expressions on both his parents faces were annoyingly unsurprising. His Father appeared amused while his Mother’s expression just seemed to convey her abject disappointment in him.

It wasn’t a look he saw often from his Mother.

He’d left Pansy with Daphne and Millicent and decided that somehow, he needed to find a way to make this right before Hermione and Potter left for the afternoon.

Merlin, he hated being held to a higher standard sometimes.

He didn’t hate Hermione. 

At least he didn’t think that was what he felt for her.

He didn’t like her.

Not as far as he could tell. She was smart. Clever. Pretty—well _now_ she was—but she was also opinionated, stubborn and far too soft-hearted for his liking.

She’d never survive in Slytherin.

So Draco continued to watch and wait for his opening.

Across the lawn, Hermione was smiling at Adrian Pucey who was being rather charming, clever and rather pretty to look at—and if she was being entirely honest—she’d always thought him to be a handsome wizard. He’d never been downright cruel to her over the years, he’d been more aloof. But talking with him now, his brown eyes sparkling as he smiled at her—Hermione couldn’t help but respond in kind.

“So what do you hope to do once you’ve received your NEWTS?”

“I’m hoping to become a solicitor within the Department of Magical Law.”

“Oh? That sounds rather intriguing. What do you hope to accomplish?”

Adrian chuckled as he took in the younger witch’s eager countenance. He’d always known Hermione Granger was an intelligent witch despite her blood status. The sudden change of that didn’t make her any less impressive, as he’d never really cared much about blood status.

At least not inwardly.

“I am hoping to update some of the outdated laws in regards to education.”

“I don’t understand.”

Pucey offered her his arm, which she took after a brief hesitation and he led her over towards another part of the garden. He couldn’t help but inwardly smirk at all the attention they were receiving.

“I’m sure you’ve see it yourself at school. Some of the classes are seriously in need of an overhaul. We don’t integrate Muggleborn children until the age of eleven, but history has shown that magic expresses much earlier. There is a huge disparity within the Statute of Secrecy that prevents those outside of the Wizarding World of knowing about magic until the child turns eleven. Also, Muggle studies—no offense—but it’s woefully outdated. And there is no Wizarding counterpart to help those who come into our world learn how to adapt. Did you know, that nearly 85% of all Muggleborns stay within the Wizarding world for employment and a good majority of those marry a magical spouse?”

Hermione just stared at the young wizard in awe. She didn’t know the exact statistics, but she wasn’t ignorant that something like that would likely be the case.

“That’s not as surprising as you might think.”

Adrian nodded as they continued to walk together. “I’m not quite like my Slytherin classmates, but I do realize the importance of tradition and culture. I just think there has to be a better way to balance the two. The Headmaster is a smart wizard, but he’s incredibly short-sighted about many things.”

Hermione had to agree with that.

“Besides,” Adrian smirked in challenge, “if you had known a bit more about this world prior to eleven, you might have viewed your House Elf liberation idea a bit differently.”

She blushed, but her gaze narrowed at the subtle rebuke and Adrian just chuckled deeply.

“It’s not a criticism. Just a fact.”

“You seem awfully sure of that fact, Mr. Pucey.”

“I am, Miss Prewett. You’re reputation precedes you, but I’ve watched you over the years. You’re passionate but pragmatic. You’re kind, but ruthless when provoked. You value fairness but have been known to bend the rules when it’s suited your purposes?”

Her blushed deepened and she bit her lip as her blue eyes sparkled with mischief. “I didn’t realize you’d been paying such close attention, Mr. Pucey?”

His answering grin had Hermione giggling softly. “Please call me Adrian. Mr. Pucey is my Father.”

“Agreed, if you would call me Hermione.”

The wizard winked in reply as both of them continued wandering around the gardens, talking about commonalities that they shared in literature.

“You’ve really read Austen?”

“I have.” Adrian admitted easily. “I’m rather fond of _Persuasion_, but even I can see the appeal of _Pride and Prejudice_. Not my favorite novels though.”

“And that would be?”

“I’m actually a huge fan of Tolstoy. But my favorite novel, if we are just talking about Muggle authors would have to be _Frankenstein_ by Mary Shelley. Although some rumors indicate that she might’ve been a squib, but no one really knows for sure.”

Hermione was surprised by this admission. “I’m surprised. While I do love Austen and Shelley, my favorite novel is _Jane Eyre_.”

“Ah, Bronte. Another good one.” Hermione smiled at that, more than impressed that Adrian was so well read.

“What did you like about it?”

“That the protagonist wanted more for her life than her station would’ve proclaimed her as having. She’s an orphan, but she doesn’t allow that to dissuade her from striving to find herself and the choices she makes are true for her. Jane’s search for her own identity, in a world that doesn’t allow for someone of her background to have a voice—her moral complexity that stretches beyond the confines of social mores and her willingness to be emotional in a time when such sentiment was heavily frowned upon? It’s both resplendent in its passion, but it’s also a cautionary tale of loss and hope.”

Hermione was floored. She simply couldn’t have put into words any clearer as to why she loved the story so much.

She was finding herself quite impressed with Adrian Pucey.

“That’s it exactly.” She breathed out in wonder. “I’ve always felt that Jane’s courage to stand up to those who bullied and demeaned her said more of her heart—as well as her capacity for kindness and forgiveness.”

“It sounds like someone we both know.”

“And whom might that be, Adrian?”

“I’m looking at her _now_.”

Hermione again blushed deeply, as she couldn’t meet the warm brown eyes of the wizard staring down at her. When she finally lifted her head up, she noticed they had wandered into the hedged maze that she’d seen earlier.

“Is this what I think it is?”

Adrian looked around them and laughed. “Yes, I didn’t even realize where I was leading you. Should we go back or explore further?”

“Am I going to get in trouble for being out here with you unchaperoned?”

Adrian’s mischievous smile had her replying in kind as they both wandered further into the maze, until they reached another garden that had a small lawn and a gazebo. Adrian strolled over to the sitting area and offered her a seat before taking his spot next to her. 

Hermione wasn’t too surprised that he sat a respectable distance away.

It seemed the wizard was quite the gentleman.

“So, now that we’re alone I’ve been wondering how you’re dealing with all this?”

“I take it you mean the change in appearance, family or blood status?”

“All of the above.”

Hermione sighed as she stared over towards the high wall of the hedges, taking in their natural beauty. Malfoy Manor was impressive, it was just sad that it was tinged with the blight of her having such a contentious past with its owners.

“Being here is surreal.” Hermione began slowly as she tried to gather her thoughts. “I suppose there are those that think I should feel grateful for being allowed to grace the presence of those here today.”

“But you aren’t?”

Her blue eyes locked with brown ones and Hermione shrugged indifferently. “Not really. Does that make me an awful person?”

Adrian chuckled and shook his head. “No, just an honest one which is refreshing—if I’m being honest.”

“Don’t get a lot of that in Slytherin?”

At this, Adrian threw his head back and laughed in genuine humor, causing Hermione to join him. After a few moments, the wizard just shook his head.

“No. Brutal honesty is definitely not a Slytherin trait.”

“Then how do I know you’re being honest with me?”

“Touché,” the wizard smiled in appreciation, “but needless to say I really have no reason not to be. You’d hex me if you’d discovered any duplicity on my part. I am a Slytherin, so self-preservation is paramount. I’d rather not incur your wrath Hermione. I’ve seen what you’re capable of when provoked. I’d rather stay on your good side.”

“Noted.” Her smile faded a bit as she contemplated just how straightforward she wanted to be. “I miss my Muggle parents. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t, but I’m also grateful for my Grandmother and the Weasleys. This could’ve been so much worse.”

“True enough. For what’s its worth, you handled yourself perfectly today. Pansy is difficult and she isn’t exactly known for being diplomatic.”

“Huge understatement.”

“Yes,” Adrian nodded with a wink, “but that being said, it’s no excuse for her behavior today. If I didn’t know better I’d swear she felt threatened.”

“In what way?” Hermione’s confusion was evident and Adrian couldn’t help but wonder how someone so intelligent could still be so innocent in how the world worked.

“She’s been after Draco for years, but he’s not interested in her. At least, not as a permanent fixture in his life. I just don’t think Pansy has gotten the memo on that.”

Hermione grimaced at that admission, not sure why she felt uncomfortable—but self-aware enough to know that she did.

“I suppose I should feel sorry for her?”

“Do you?”

“Probably _not_.”

They both laughed again at that, and Hermione decided right then and there that she liked Adrian’s laugh and his smile. 

He truly was a very handsome wizard.

They spent time just talking and both lost track of time until they were discovered a bit later by Theo and Malfoy, who had decided to come in search of the elusive witch.

“There you are.” Theo said evenly, as he gave Adrian a firm nod. “Potter and I were wondering where you’d run off to.”

Hermione missed the look shared between Pucey and Malfoy as the elder wizard smirked in challenge at the younger blonde.

“There was no running of any kind, Theodore Nott. We just got talking and realized we’d wandered off.”

“Well, be that as it may, you should rejoin the festivities, Hermione.”

“Fine, cousin.”

Theo’s shoulders shook as he silently laughed at Hermione’s adorable pout. He then gave Pucey a stiff nod and made to walk back towards the Manor when Hermione stopped him. She turned her head and glanced over her shoulder at the older wizard with a flirtatious smile.

“Thank you for making today rather enjoyable after such a _rough_ start, Adrian.”

The wizard bowed humbly and said, “It was my pleasure, Hermione. Might I call on you soon?”

Hermione missed the tightening of Malfoy’s posture, but Theo didn’t miss it at all and he grinned inwardly.

“I would like that very much.”

“Then it’s a promise.” Adrian winked and watched with a smug look as Theo walked off with the Prewett Heiress.

When they were out of earshot, he turned to Malfoy and said, “You really need to rein Parkinson in, mate. She was over the line today.”

Draco sighed, desperately trying not to show his irritation at the sudden turn of events.

“Trust me, Pucey...I’m well aware of Pansy’s shortcomings.”

“Just not enough to turn her loose.”

Draco’s scowl was to be expected, but he didn’t deny anything either—instead he said, “I see you’ve made your move?”

“She’s an amazing witch, Malfoy. Just because you couldn’t see beyond her blood status for years doesn’t mean there aren’t wizard’s out there who did.”

“And _you’re_ one of those wizards?”

“Yes,” Adrian admitted with a tone that brokered no argument. “I fully intend to pursue the witch and magic willing, she will choose me when the time comes.”

“And if her magic doesn’t choose you?”

Adrian shrugged, not worried in the least. “We will just have to see what happens. You can’t win if you don’t play. Fortunately for you though, you don’t have to worry about the game of pursuit for her hand. I think it’s fair to speculate that she’d never give you the time of day after what happened earlier.”

Draco just smirked and said haughtily, “Lucky for you then, mate. Because if I wanted to pursue the witch, I doubt that anything would stand in my way.”

Adrian chuckled and left Malfoy staring after him feeling like his whole world had just imploded.


	20. The Summer Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The night of the Summer Ball.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I will get to the reviews soon but much love to those who’ve left a kind word.

The rest of the summer season turned out to not be as horrible as Hermione had dreaded it would be. Theo and Harry stayed close but it was Adrian who had truly been the bright spot in an otherwise dreaded endeavor. There were a few witches only events, one at Parkinson Place that Hermione had bowed out of, feigning illness. No amount of coaxing from Theodore nor her Grandmother, would have ever tempted Hermione to have to spend an afternoon at Pansy Parkinson’s home. Although the letter she’d received from Posy Parkinson, hoping that she was feeling better made Hermione feel a twinge of guilt for her non-attendance.

But it passed rather quickly.

As luck would have it, the plans had been meted out months ago, so there was no obligatory event to be held at Fosgate Hall. And as Theodore had no female relatives, Nott Manor was another party free zone. 

Hermione often found herself over at the library within Theodore’s home, perusing the shelves and pilfering books on all kinds of magic. Between the two libraries, Hermione figured she’d never have to see a single, solitary witch or wizard all summer if she didn’t want to.

Adrian had been true to his word, and he’d sent an owl a few days after the garden party at Malfoy Manor. Tradition dictated that Hermione had an appropriate chaperone on any outing in public, and they had spent a couple of afternoons wandering around Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley together with Theo and Harry both following closely behind. 

They’d talked about everything and nothing, and she found herself as the summer wore on simply enamoured with the handsome wizard.

The final event of the summer season was a lavish ball to be held the weekend before they returned to Hogwarts and Adrian was officially escorting her. Word had gotten out faster than Hermione thought possible that she and Adrian were _supposedly_ courting. At least, that’s what they called in in High Pureblood Society. She preferred the term ‘_dating_’ but she wasn’t about to argue semantics.

At least, not at this point.

Her Grandmother had officially invited the wizard and his mother Anastasia, for tea this past week, and they’d talked politics mostly. Hermione could see that her Grandmother was amused by her choice of companions, but to her credit, Muriel was just as sharp and caustic with Adrian as she was with everyone.

Thankfully Adrian didn’t seem to mind at all, and even sparred back with the older witch.

Andromeda and Molly had both taken the time with her this afternoon to help her get ready for tonight’s ball—which ironically, was to be held at Pucey’s home. His estate was simply called ‘_Primrose_’ and Hermione was excited to see it for herself. Anastasia had mentioned that the gardens were enchanted with all kinds of magical flowers, but the highlight of the property was the crystalline lake that was always the bluest of hues in the summer and shone like iced diamonds in the winter months. Adrian had joked that his Mother loved to ice skate, and he’d been taught as a boy on that very pond. Hermione had been amazed, as she hadn’t known that witches and wizards indulged in such a hobby and she had spent many a winter ice skating with her Muggle parents.

“You’re daydreaming, Hermione.” Andromeda’s smile was knowing and even Molly snickered as she went into Hermione’s closet to pick out a few choices for the evening.

“I was just thinking about Adrian.”

“Hmm,” Andromeda winked at her in the mirror as she worked on her hair, “he is a handsome wizard and from what I’ve heard, rather intelligent and not at all prejudiced. You could do worse.”

“Thanks Meda...I think.”

Molly tutted as she laid several dresses on the bed and then grabbed the first one and held it up, so Hermione could see it in the mirror.

It was a deep purple dress with a sweetheart neckline, corseted bodice and a full skirt. It was satin, and definitely not what she wanted to wear tonight. She shook her head and Molly nodded, before reaching for a second dress. This one was a pretty peach, with a beaded embellished bodice and an empire waist that fell in delicate chiffon to the floor. The dress was strapless, which was considered quite modern these days, but Hermione shook her head again.

It wasn’t right.

The final dress had Hermione’s full attention. Deep, emerald green—the bodice was whimsical with a deeper V neck than she had ever worn, but the chiffon material sparkled almost iridescently in the low light of the bedroom. The back plunged even more than the front and there was a simple gold belt that fitted around the waist. The rest of the chiffon skirt flowed like water to the ground with a peek-a-boo slit that went to mid thigh on the left side. Hermione smiled and nodded—it was _perfect_.

“Quite a statement dress, I think.” Andromeda chuckled. “Slytherin colors...well, the green at least.”

“Do you not think it appropriate?” Hermione’s voice held an edge of worry, but Andromeda just shushed her and shook her head.

“No, just the _opposite_ dear. I think your beau will not be able to take his eyes off you this evening. You will be the belle of the ball.”

“It’s a shame you don’t have a piece of jewelry to go with it.” Molly said wistfully. “We should have thought of that before now.”

Just then there was a soft knock on the door, and Molly went over to answer it. Muriel nodded as she walked inside the room, clearly not needing an invitation.

“I see you are well attended this evening, Dearest. Is that the dress you’ve chosen?”

“Yes.” Hermione’s gaze met the approving one of her Grandmother.

Muriel nodded again, and when she moved over, Hermione saw a box in her hand. 

She recognized it as the same one she’d taken out of the Prewett vault at Gringotts when they’d visited there initially. 

Her Grandmother smiled fondly and set the box down in front of her.

“That is for you, Dearest. It was commissioned by your Father sometime before your birth and placed in the family vault for you. I do believe it has several enchantments upon it.”

Hermione’s hands shook as she lifted the jewelry box into her hands. Her blue eyes met the stunned gaze of Molly, who was clearly emotional as she stared at her through the mirror.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione opened the box and gasped at the exquisite bracelet nestled in the red velvet. The bracelet was made of goblin gold, and it shimmered in the light like fire—the stones embedded in the gold filigree were six fire opals that were unlike any gems she’d ever seen. The iridescent colors within the stones had shades of reds, oranges, greens, blues, yellows and ambers—and seemed to be nearly alive, as each time the light hit one of the stones—it looked like _flames_ erupting from within.

“Those are black fire opals and are the rarest of all fire opal gems. This piece your Father had commissioned for you and named the _Eternal Flame.”_

“It’s beautiful.” Hermione’s voice wavered as she stared at the gift, her heart pounding at the fact that her Father, a man she’d never gotten the chance to know, had this made for her before he’d died.

Muriel took the bracelet out of the box and Hermione lifted her left wrist, watching silently as her Grandmother placed the gift on her wrist and then murmured a spell, sealing the clasp with magic.

“The Fire opal has long been a stone of great magical power symbolizing love, hope, happiness and truth. I do believe under the circumstances, this is a rather fitting piece of jewelry for you, Dearest.”

Hermione swallowed as she discreetly wiped a single tear from the corner of her eye, as she stared in wonder at the exquisite gift. She could feel the enchantments within the stones as well as the power hummed along her skin.

“Thank you, Grandmother.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Dearest. I’m just giving you that which is yours by right. My only regret is your Father isn’t here to bestow this gift personally.”

Hermione heard Molly sniffle behind her and she gazed back at her Aunt, who was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief.

“I should leave you to finish getting ready for the evening. I will meet you in the floo room in thirty minutes. I also wanted to convey that William owled me earlier today as he wanted to let you know that he was able to finish checking McKinnon Manor for curses. We should be able to make our way over come the morrow.”

“Of course. Thank you.”

Hermione watched her Grandmother leave her room, feeling a bit overwhelmed as she continued to stare at her new bracelet. Both Andromeda and Molly could see that she was feeling emotional.

“It’s truly a _stunning_ piece.” Andromeda’s offered kindly as Molly moved over, lifting her wrist to get a closer look.

“Fabian was _very_ traditional.” Molly began, with a fore lorn expression marring her features. “My Father gave me my first piece of jewelry before the summer ball my first season. I do still have it, and I’ve asked Arthur to give it to Ginny this evening.”

Hermione smiled and reached for Molly’s hand, giving it an affectionate squeeze. “Shouldn’t you be home with Ginny?”

“I’m heading home now, I just wanted to be here to help you get ready too.” Molly placed a gentle kiss on top of her forehead before she gave Andromeda a quick nod and left.

Hermione’s blue eyes met grey and she sighed sadly. “This is harder on her than I thought, isn’t it?”

“Both Molly and I are in very similar situations. We each gave up our places within our families for love—to make the choice for ourselves. You my dear, won’t ever have to worry about that because your own magic will choose the right one for you.”

Hermione stood up and walked over to where her dress was laid out on the bed, running a finger across the gentle fabric as she said, “Theo said something along those lines too.”

“I’d imagine he did.” Andromeda moved over and lifted the dress, motioning for her to turn around so she could help her into it, which she did. “Your magic, by the nature of being an elemental will seek out its best match. From what Nymphadora tells me, you’re not a believer in Divination.”

“I’m not—not exactly.”

“Hmm, I suppose I can understand that but you really should strive to keep an open mind.” The dress was on at this point and Andromeda moved over into the closet to pick out a pair of gold stiletto heels, and charmed them for stability and comfort. “But be that as it may, the magic of a Sorceress is unlike any other kind of magic. Elemental magic needs a grounding force. It needs it’s perfect match. Right now, your magic is stable but that won’t be the case for long as it will seek out its mate.”

“Like a Veela?”

Andromeda chuckled but shook her head in the negative. “A Veela mate is something quite different. A Veela can’t live without its mate, and they are soul bonded after a fashion. An ancillary is someone who’s own magic is a grounding force, who can balance the elemental witch or wizard perfectly so that their magic doesn’t become unstable.”

“Theo said my magic would only choose the most compatible wizard?”

“Yes. The _strongest_ option. There might be others wizards who come close, but your magic will know when you find that one wizard who is meant to be yours.”

“What if I don’t want him?”

Andromeda seemed surprised by that question, but after a moment her expression became thoughtful as she considered it seriously.

“I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of such a thing, but if I had to make an educated guess?”

Hermione nodded, eager to hear what she had to say.

“You could potentially pick a grounding force in more than one wizard.”

“A triad?” Hermione’s face was horrified and Andromeda laughed at the disgusted look.

“Yes. If a singular wizard isn’t found strong enough to balance your power, you might need to seek it out from more than one. However, that is so rare that I don’t think it’s been practiced in over 1000 years.”

“Merlin!” Hermione whispered as she turned and stared at the finished product reflected back at her in the mirror. 

Her hair was pinned up and away from her face, cascading in soft curls down her back. As she got further away from the transformation, her hair had started going back to its curlier look which made her both relieved and irritated. Her skin softly glowed due to the plumeria and hibiscus lotion that Andromeda had gifted her. It’s subtle scent wafting delicately on her nose. Her makeup was simple—soft pink rouged cheeks, light mauve lipstick and a shimmering shade of iced green shadow on her eyelids. Her lashes too thick and long for mascara.

The dress flowed down her body like something out of a fairytale. The color was very complimentary against her porcelain skin, and the shattering of soft freckles on her nose were still there, just a bit lighter. Her new accessory shimmered as she moved her arm, picking up the light at every angle.

“You look very beautiful, Hermione. Your beau will be enchanted.”

Hermione couldn’t help the blush that stole over her features. “Adrian is a singular wizard. I like him very much.”

“He comes from a good family. Anastasia is a sweet witch, and Armand is a very formal wizard but he adores his wife and son.”

“Was he ever in league with Voldemort?”

“Not that I’d ever heard. The Pucey’s, although Pureblood, aren’t Sacred 28 and have been known to marry outside of English circles often. I don’t think Voldemort worried himself with the plebes.”

Hermione giggled loudly and Andromeda smiled at her mirth.

Checking the time, the older witch tutted that it was time to head down to the floo as Muriel would likely be waiting for them.

As it turned out, Andromeda was correct.

“You look simply perfect, Dearest.”

“Thank you, Grandmother. You look rather handsome yourself.”

“Oh, pish! I’m an old witch with little regard for such formal niceties. But I think I will enjoy the evening if for no other reason it gives me leave to watch you work your magic on Mr. Pucey.”

“Grandmother!”

The two older witches laughed and then there was a slight coughing sound. Turning, Hermione smiled widely at Harry, who was dressed in formal black robes.

“Speaking of handsome.” Andromeda clucked with a teasing glint and both Hermione and Muriel chuckled at how uncomfortable Harry looked as he fiddled with his dress robes.

“Stop it, Harry! You look perfectly fine.”

Harry grumbled and when he raised his head, his eyes widened as his sister who looked...

“Wow! You look beautiful, Mione.”

Hermione smiled softly in response. “Thank you, Harry. We really should get going.”

“Nervous?”

“A little, but glad too that this is the last of these events until Yule.”

“Me too.” Harry grumbled as he watched Muriel move into the floo and call out for Primrose main hall. The green flames flashed and then Harry followed. When Hermione moved forward, she stopped and smiled gratefully at Andromeda.

“Thank you for being here with me tonight, Meda.”

“You’re welcome, dear. Enjoy your evening.”

“I’ll try.”

Hermione was taken away and in an instant found herself in a large receiving room, that was decorated in stylish cremes, beiges and gold.

She felt Harry’s hand pull her from the floo and she waved her other hand, cleaning them both off instantly before he led her to their place in the receiving line. It was a bit before they got to the head of the line where Armand and Anastasia Pucey were standing greeting their guests with their Son. 

As soon as Adrian’s eyes landed on her, they widened and darkened lustfully in appreciation and a wicked smile curved onto the corner of his mouth. 

Hermione felt her skin heat at the frank look of admiration from the older wizard.

“Ah, Lady Prewett.” Armand bowed formally as he kissed her proffered hand in greeting. “Welcome to Primrose. You remember my wife Anastasia and our Son, Adrian.”

“Of course. It is lovely to see you again Armand, Anastasia. And you are looking well, Adrian.”

“Thank you, Lady Prewett.”

Muriel turned to Hermione and Harry and waved them forward. “This is my Granddaughter, Hermione and Mr. Harry Potter—a new addition to our House.”

Hermione curtsied and Harry bowed formally. Armand’s gaze landed on the Boy Who Lived with a firm nod and then his eyes traveled to the Prewett Heiress and he smiled genuinely in welcome.

“It is lovely to meet you both and welcome to my home.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Harry spoke for them both, “we are honored to be here.”

Anastasia’s eyes were twinkling in glee as she took in her son’s gobsmacked expression. He was clearly besotted with the young witch.

“We do hope you’ll enjoy your evening.” Anastasia said kindly. “Please don’t hesitate to call on any of us should you require anything.”

Hermione’s gaze locked onto Adrian’s and she blushed. “Thank you, Mrs. Pucey. That is very kind of you.”

“Nonsense, Dear,” the other witch said with amused affection, “I do hope we will have the chance to speak later.”

Hermione’s expression was genuine as she replied, “I would like that very much.”

Armand nodded regally and then looked over to his son, who was now directly in front of the young witch and bowed formally—before taking her hand and placing a soft kiss directly on the back of her knuckles.

“You are _breathtaking_.” He whispered so only she and Harry could hear and Hermione’s blush deepened as she stared into warm brown eyes that were fixated only on her.

“Thank you, Adrian. You look very handsome as well.”

The wizard’s smirk wasn’t arrogant, like some wizard’s tended to be—thought Hermione fleetingly—he just seemed pleased by her approval.

“I will find you soon, yes?”

Hermione nodded and allowed Harry to direct her into the formal ballroom that was full of people talking, eating and dancing.

Adrian watched his witch head off with her brother and sighed in longing, earning an amused chuckle from both his parents.

“You’ve chosen well, my Son. She is exquisite, and if rumor is to be believed, very intelligent and powerful.”

Adrian’s gaze moved back to his parents reluctantly, as he nodded absently at his Father’s comment.

“She’s _always_ been exceptional, Father.” He finally said at last.

Anastasia didn’t seem too surprised by her Son’s soft admission, but Armand clearly was if his lifted eyebrows were any indication.

“I wasn’t aware you held a torch for the witch?”

Adrian shrugged. “I’ve always admired her intellect, Father. Even when it was impossible to acknowledge it.”

Armand nodded at his child, a knowing gleam in his gaze.

“I would imagine it would’ve been, Son. But no matter. What’s done is past and it’s clear the witch in quite fond of you. Do you hope to court her formally?”

Adrian nodded. “If her magic will have me.”

Armand sighed, but he well understood what his son was saying. Rumors were rampant that the Prewett Heiress was a Sorceress—an _elemental_. If that was true and her powers had manifested without the aid of a bonded, she was truly a powerful witch. Probably on par with Morgana herself. To have such a witch aligned with his family would be a great boon to the Pucey line, but as a Father—he was more concerned with how his son felt. 

It was clear watching Adrian, that he was quite taken with the younger witch.

“As long as you’re happy, Son. It’s all your Mother and I could wish for you. Magic knows, I was never a follower of that madman, but tradition will always be paramount in this family. You have always known what is expected of you. Regardless, if your heart is committed on this course of action, you have our support.”

Adrian smiled at both his parents, and then kissed his Mother’s cheek in thanks.

“Might I be excused from my duty at this time?”

“Of course, Dear.” Anastasia placed a hand on her husband’s arm with a firm squeeze. “Go and enjoy your evening.”

Adrian bowed and quickly left, missing the shared knowing look between his parents. 

When he entered the ballroom it was fairly clustered with guests and he roved his gaze over everyone trying to find the object of his affections.

Elsewhere, Draco had seen Hermione walk into the ballroom with Potter and his heart literally stopped within his chest for an indeterminate amount of time as he stared in wonder at the vision in Slytherin green. He even heard his Father’s quick intake of breath and sure enough, he too was staring at Hermione. His mother’s gaze was contemplative as she watched the younger witch glide effortlessly with her brother, as many people approached them—desirous of formally making their acquaintance. 

Muriel was talking with Evelyn Rosier and Siobhan McLaggen. The two witches had husbands who were fairly well placed within the Ministry of Magic.

Narcissa continued to observe as she noticed Adrian Pucey enter the ballroom and he seemed to be searching for someone. It was a few moments later he found the witch in question and made a beeline for her straight away. When he reached the Prewett Heiress, Narcissa was a bit surprised when Potter relinquished his hold on Hermione’s arm and handed her over to the young Pucey. Her blue eyes shifted to her husband, who’s own expression was contemplative. When her attention landed on her Dragon, Narcissa could see and feel the irritation coming off her only child. He didn’t look pleased at all. 

In fact—he seemed to be jealous.

That was interesting, and something she’d need to contemplate later.

As she continued to watch the young couple, it was clear that they were the center of everyone’s attention but they only had eyes for each other. Theodore came over and shook Adrian’s hand with a firm nod of approval and even Muriel seemed pleased with the match. The older witch caught her gaze and inclined her head in acknowledgment. 

Narcissa returned the social gesture, before turning her attention back to her son.

“Why don’t you mingle, My Dragon?”

Draco glanced at his Mother and sighed, before nodding in acquiescence and moving towards a few of his fellow classmates.

All summer he’d tried to get Hermione alone so he could properly apologize for his rude behavior at his home, but the witch had avoided him with a singular focus that she’d often reserved for her studies at school. Whenever he’d move into her direction, she’d gracefully exit away from him or cling onto Potter, Theo or Pucey like a fucking lifeline.

He would’ve normally been amused by such cunning, if he wasn’t so irritated by the fact that he couldn’t get her alone.

He was trying desperately to not dwell on the _why_.

As he nodded to Blaise, who had Daphne firmly ensconced on his arm—he noticed where their mutual gazes were focused at, and he sighed inwardly.

_Fucking Pucey._

“They look good together.” Blaise quipped, with a side-long glance in his direction.

His noncommittal shrug only seemed to amuse his friend more.

“Adrian has always had a little thing for her. Even when she was Hermione Granger, he’d watch her from time to time.” Daphne commented blithely, as she took a dainty sip from her elf made wine.

“Sometimes I forget how observant you are, love.” Blaise grinned at her and she blushed prettily, but didn’t comment.

“I overheard Armand and Anastasia give their blessing to Adrian to pursue the witch.” Blaise said with a predatory smirk on his face, his dark eyes clearly assessing.

“I’m not surprised.” Was the only comment given, and Blaise chuckled deeply at the verbal lacking on the subject. Deciding to expound a bit further he added, “Adrian all but told me he planned to pursue the witch.”

“And you’re alright with that?”

The feigned shock of surprise didn’t seem to fool Blaise in the least, as he smirked even wider. Waving him off and signaling the end of the discussion, he wisely decided to keep quiet for the time being.

Then fucking Pansy showed up.

“There you are, Draco!” She purred in what was surely meant to be a seductive manner, but had Draco cringing inwardly—especially when she latched herself onto his arm in a clear show of possession.

He could hear Blaise laughing under his breath and even Daphne was trying very hard not to smile at how over the top Pansy was being.

“You look nice, Daphne.” The black-haired witch said with an eye roll, not even trying to hide her dislike for the other witch.

“I’d say the same to you, Pansy, _if_ it was true.” Was all Daphne said, and Draco smirked at the way Pansy bristled at the slight.

“Did you hear that, Draco?”

“Obviously.” He looked down into Pansy’s dark brown eyes and his smirk widened cruelly. “Why do you seek to be such a bitch to everyone? You have to know it doesn’t endear you to others.”

At the stern rebuke, Pansy scoffed loudly, gaining the attention of a few guests who were standing fairly close to them.

“As if you’ve ever allowed that to stop you from being a right prick to everyone at school? Your selective memory would be amusing, if it wasn’t quite so hypocritical of you.”

Draco sighed, his whole body tense with ire as he realized that while Pansy was correct—mostly—he simply couldn’t afford to be that way any longer. His own parents had sat down with him this summer after the Hermione incident and had cautioned him on his role as a leader—a Malfoy—and that making a spectacle out of himself wasn’t good form for someone of his station.

He’d been chastened and humbled in a way his parents had never done before.

And he’d taken it to heart.

“You’re right, Pansy.” He watched with amusement as all three of his classmates stared at him with expressions ranging from shock, disbelief and lastly—despair. “My past actions have been less than stellar and not befitting someone of my station. Perhaps it was my jealousy of Potter, or perhaps it was just that I needed to learn to trust in my own worth. Whatever the impetus was and _is_, this here with you isn’t working for me anymore. I think you need to find someone who’s own mentality is more in keeping with your own.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” The witch hissed in anger and Daphne chuckled at her.

“I think it means Pansy..._dear_...that your aspirations of becoming Lady Malfoy have just died a most fitting death.”

Blaise coughed out a laugh while Draco just smirked a bit more, his eyes blazing as he could see Pansy was about to throw a public fit. 

His voice lowered to a deadly whisper as he shook his head subtly at her.

“_Don’t_. I get you’re angry, upset...whatever. But we both knew this wasn’t a permanent thing.”

“This is because of her, isn’t it?”

Draco sighed and shook his head. “No, it isn’t.” He lied easily enough. Because it really wasn’t. “I’m going to find myself busy this year, Pansy. Quidditch Captain, Prefect, my internship with Severus. I’m not going to have time to give you what you need from a wizard and since we aren’t going to be courting officially..._ever_...there seems little reason to stay together. You deserve someone who appreciates you, Pansy.”

Pansy’s eyes shimmered with angry tears as she huffed in fury. “You’re _lying_.” She hissed again and Blaise wisely set up a privacy charm just in case the witch lost the plot. “We all know you’ve been _obsessed_ with Granger since third year. Probably before that too. Now that she’s an acceptable match, we both know you won’t allow anyone or anything stand in your way.”

“Pansy, you’re wrong. Hermione Prewett, would never give me the time of day and I think we all know that. She could end me with a flick of her wrist, or haven’t any of you noticed she hasn’t carried a wand all summer?”

All three sets of eyes widened as they gazed over to said witch, who’s head was thrown back in laughter at something Pucey was saying to her.

“Ah, well—now you all know.” Draco said imperiously. “Go find a good wizard, Pans, _and let this go._ If you don’t? If you make this difficult for either one of us? You’ll give me no choice but to retaliate in kind.”

Pansy swallowed at the hard glint in Draco’s eyes, his face a stoic mask and in that moment he looked every inch the Son of Lucius Malfoy, as he stared her down.

Pansy choked on a broken sob and moved quickly out of the ballroom, ignoring the interested stares from several witches and wizards.

When she was gone, Blaise said, “That was harsh, mate.”

“Yet, _necessary_.” Draco shook his head and sighed, running a hand through his hair in agitation. “It’s my own fault for letting it get as far as it did.”

“At least you left her intact.” Daphne smirked while Blaise just sputtered out a rebuttal, but he immediately noticed Draco didn’t deny it.

“It would’ve been bad form not to do so.” Draco admitted quietly after a few moments of silence. “And I’d rather not be forced into a contract with a Pureblood witch, because I couldn’t keep it in my pants.”

“There is that.” Blaise agreed with a grin. “What about _that?”_

Blaise lifted his chin in the direction of Hermione and Pucey and watched his friend’s gaze narrow for the briefest of seconds, before his mask came down again.

“We both know it won’t last.”

“And why is that, mate?”

Draco’s grey eyes settled on his, and Blaise was taken aback by the emotion held within those icy orbs. His friend didn’t say anything however, but sauntered away—clearly intent on planning his next set of moves.


	21. Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco observes something he wasn’t meant to...and Hermione realizes that she may have more culpability in her negative dynamic with Malfoy than she’d ever considered before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the kudos and reviews as always.

Hermione had spent the majority of the evening in Adrian’s company, the wizard introducing her to many of his school friends, some of his family acquaintances and a few distant relatives. They talked, laughed and danced and Hermione simply couldn’t remember a time when she’d felt this relaxed and happy. She could feel the weighted stares of those within the room, but she simply couldn’t have care less. 

She was enjoying herself, and basked in the attentions of her handsome date.

At one point, Adrian led her out to the veranda for a bit of fresh air and as they stood there, admiring the fairy lights that were dispersed throughout the garden below—Adrian wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her flush against him with a pleased hum.

“You enjoying yourself tonight?”

Her blue eyes sparkled as she bit her lip and nodded. “Surprisingly, I am.”

“Surprisingly?” Adrian mocked as he pouted playfully. “I thought I was endeavoring to be a _most attentive host.”_

Hermione laughed joyfully at how adorable he looked. “You have been, most kind Sir. Whatever would I have done without your good humor and equanimity this evening, I’ll never know.”

Adrian chuckled, before his expression turned a bit serious.

“I’m glad you’ve been having an enjoyable time. I just wanted to make this pleasurable for you, Hermione.”

The little witch lifted her head up and smirked. “You are _most pleasing,_ Mr. Pucey.”

Tilting his head down, Adrian responded back with a wicked grin. “I aim to please, My Lady.”

With a swift descent, Adrian’s lips locked with her own in a chaste kiss. His lips were soft and gentle, and Hermione could feel her body purr with anticipation as she lifted her hands along the wizard’s shoulders and into his hair. When her hands gripped his scalp, Adrian hummed against her lips, and she instinctively reached out her tongue, tracing the seam of his lips until he opened his mouth and deepened the kiss.

After a few moments, they both broke apart—breathing heavily and grinning like fools.

“I should probably get you back inside.” He whispered out unhappily. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

Hermione sighed. “I’m actually busy tomorrow. Bill Weasley finally finished his check of McKinnon Manor so I’m going there tomorrow with Theo and Harry. I’m rather nervous, if I’m being honest.”

Adrian nodded in understanding. “I’m sure it will be perfectly safe. I’d be happy to attend if you needed me to.”

Hermione seriously considered it, but slowly shook her head in the negative. “I think I just need to do this with family, Adrian. Maybe once that’s done, you could come by for a visit?”

The older wizard nodded, seemingly not put out at all by her lack of acceptance.

“Whatever you need.”

Her smiling was blinding as she said breathlessly, “Thank you for being so amazing. I don’t know what I would’ve done this summer if it hadn’t been for you.”

“You would’ve been just fine, Hermione. You have Harry and Theo.”

“I know, and they’ve both been so supportive.” She admitted with a small sigh. “I suppose I had hoped that some people might’ve been...” her voice fell away as she bit her lip in consternation, but Adrian wasn’t a fool—he knew what she meant.

“Hermione,” he cupped her chin and tilted her head back towards him so their eyes could meet. “You don’t have to like the people you socialize with. Merlin knows, I can’t stand half of the people in that room but being a Pureblood means putting on a brave face and killing with kindness—or at least _pretending_ to.”

“How do you do it? You make it seem so effortless.”

Adrian chuckled deeply, then kissed her again for a brief moment.

As he pulled back he just winked. “My Mum used to tell me to think of it as a game. The goal was to get people to show more of themselves than you did. Being observant isn’t a bad thing—you can actually learn a lot about people that way.”

“Is that a Slytherin thing?”

Adrian shook his head. “I don’t think it’s strictly inherently Slytherin, although we do tend to learn it at a much younger age by virtue of our upbringing. There’s a hierarchy even within Slytherin. Being Pureblood isn’t necessarily enough to assure you of good standing or a proper placement within society. Those within the Sacred 28 are of course, on the top of the social strata—but there are those families within, that aren’t looked very favorably upon.”

“Like the Weasley’s?”

“Yes,” Adrian pulled her with him and they sat down on a white stone bench that he’d charmed for comfort. “But, some family’s like the McKinnon’s and the Pucey’s have been rather well thought of, even though we’ve never been part of the Sacred 28.”

“It all seems so ridiculous.”

“I’m sure it does, not having grown up in it.” He paused briefly and then pointed out, “Muggles have their own social structures too? Did you ever find that strange?”

Hermione thought about it for a moment and then shook her head. “No. My Muggle parents were rather well placed within their social circles. Nothing like here, but enough for me to understand that we were in a different class than many of the children I went to primary school with.”

“And it’s the same here. There are those who are at the top of our society by virtue of their blood status, wealth and connections.”

“The Malfoy’s.” Hermione’s voice was bitter, and Adrian snorted at the disgusted expression on her face.

“Yes.” He tilted his head at her curiously for a moment before he said, “You really don’t like Draco at all, do you?”

Hermione was surprised by the question, but she just shook her head. 

“My problem with Malfoy has stemmed from the fact that _he hates me. _He was the one who taught me the word—_mudblood_. In fact, if memory serves...you were there.”

Adrian blushed, but didn’t deny it. 

He had been there that day and while he hadn’t been happy with Draco’s use of the word, Hermione wasn’t exactly blameless either.

A fact he felt he needed to educate her on.

“I do remember that day, clearly. _Do you?”_

Her confusion was palpable as she said, “What do you mean?”

Adrian took her hand and placed a gentle kiss on it before he forged ahead.

“I remember that day very well. We were on our way out to the Quidditch pitch when this bushy haired little witch with a righteous attitude accused a certain blonde wizard of buying his way onto the team by having his Father bribe said team with new brooms.”

“Yes, I did say that.” Hermione’s voice was indignant and Adrian could only smile at how adorable she looked.

“Yes, you _did_. But you’d assumed something that turned out to be _untrue_. Draco _earned_ his spot on the team. Fairly. He wasn’t handed it like Potter had been. He had to try out. Marcus would’ve never given a spot to anyone had they not been able to hold their own. Draco’s father had been so proud of his accomplishment, he’d sent the team brooms as a gift. Those brooms were handed down to every player who’s earned a spot since. You challenged Draco’s pride, and _embarrassed_ him in front of his teammates and rivals, assuming something in your dislike of him.”

Hermione’s face paled as her expression relayed her shock and dismay but she said shakily, “He _didn’t_ have to use that word.”

Adrian just shook his head again at her naïveté. “My adorable little witch. You _humiliated_ him. To a Malfoy, nothing is more offensive, so he retaliated in kind. I’m not saying it was right, but neither one of you could claim to hold the higher ground that day.”

Hermione turned her head and stared out over the gardens, deep in thought. 

Had Malfoy’s taunting of her blood status really been in reaction to her hateful words? 

He’d never called her that name prior, despite his dislike of Harry and Ron.

He’d never really engaged her much at all. 

She’d been beneath his notice, obviously. 

But he’d been dismissive and aloof...not mean and hateful until that day.

“That doesn’t excuse what happened at his home earlier this summer.” She eventually whispered out brokenly, feeling a reluctant tear falling from the corner of her eye.

Adrian wiped the tear and sighed, his heart hurting at the distress on his witch’s face.

“No, it doesn’t. Draco is many things, but he’s never been anything but a consummate host in his own home. I won’t make excuses for his behavior, but Pansy does tend to bring out the worst in people.”

Hermione giggled through a broken sob as she turned back towards Adrian, her blue eyes glistening with unshed tears. 

“You’re a good wizard, Adrian.”

The wizard shrugged as if to say, ‘_Eh_’ and Hermione smiled. She scooted closer and ran a hand down his cheek in a soft caress and smiled gently when Adrian’s eyes closed as he hummed at her touch. When his eyes opened, they were heated and Hermione responded to the unspoken plea as she leant forward and kissed the wizard.

The kiss deepened as before, and several minutes passed before the balcony door opened and someone cleared their throat. Pulling back, Hermione moved her head down to hide the fierce blush making its way over her cheeks and down her neck.

Adrian however, looked rather pleased as he grinned over at his fellow Slytherin.

“Theodore.”

“You both might want to come back inside. You’ve been _missed_.”

Adrian nodded and thanked his fellow wizard, standing up and taking Hermione’s hand—pulling her up gently into his embrace.

“Let’s get you back inside before your Grandmother decides to hex first and ask questions after.”

“Okay.” She nodded at Theo, and then moved with Adrian back into the ballroom.

Theo turned his head to the left of the veranda and chuckled, before closing the door behind him as he went back inside.

A few moments later, a disillusionment charm dropped and Draco stood there staring at the bench—his fists clenched in impotent rage and despair. He couldn’t help but feel grateful to his friend for advocating on his behalf, but he also didn’t like to see Hermione kissing his friend either. He hadn’t been out here long when he’d heard the door open and had quickly hid under a cloaking spell and silencing charm. Luckily, they hadn’t thought to use a _hominem revelio_ to see if anyone was out here with them.

He’d been fortunate not to get caught.

But now all he could think about was how beautiful Hermione looked with her lips swollen and cheeks flushed from her snog with Pucey.

_Fucking tosser!_

And then there was Theo, whom he was fairly certain suspected that he’d been out here and had witnessed the entire show.

As if his night couldn’t get any worse!

He just really wanted to go home and read a good book and try to put this night far from his mind.

He moved over to the bench and sat down, staring out into the dark.

It wasn’t an easy thing to see how your own choices had hurt someone else. 

Over the years, he’d never seen Hermione falter nor show her upset over how he’d hurt her. She’d always given as good as she got...the punch in third year had proven that rather succinctly. She’d challenged him, frustrated him and made him feel inadequate. He was a Malfoy, he wasn’t supposed to feel that way yet he’d had. Potter had made him feel that on the Quidditch Pitch and Hermione had made him swallow it in every class they’d had together.

And it had been a bitter pill for him.

But secretly, he’d admired her strength and feistiness. 

She was a force of nature.

_Literally_.

Draco smirked at that thought. How fitting she should turn out to be an actual Sorceress. If anyone epitomized every quality of a Sorceress—it would be Hermione. She was simply put—indomitable. A witch who’s spirit was as incandescent in her fury as it was in her silence. He’d just refused to acknowledge it because he’d known in the way of impotent shame and regret, that he’d never be allowed to appreciate her...not in the ways he’d wished to.

So he’d been an unmitigated arse instead.

This whole night was turning out to be one big disappointment.

Dusting the imaginary lint off his trousers, Draco stood up and glanced over the balcony to admire the grounds one last time before he wandered back into the party. Placing a notice me not over himself and the door, he stealthily reentered the gala and made his way over to the bar before cancelling the charm. He instantly met Theo’s gaze and his friend smirked and raised his glass to him in mock salute. Draco just sneered and grabbed a glass of wine, returning the gesture haughtily before taking a generous sip of the liquid.

Maybe he should just get drunk.

Yeah, that might work.

His gaze moved around a bit and settled on Pucey with Hermione. They were talking to Anastasia and Armand, and Adrian’s parents seemed pleased—and why wouldn’t they be? Their son was, if not already, would be soon enough—courting the Prewett Heiress. It was enough to make a lesser wizard curse at something in frustration.

If Theo’s knowing smirk and Blaise’s grins were anything to judge by; they knew it too.

_He was fucked._


	22. Sally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione makes a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the kind reviews and kudos!

The lateness of the evening bled into the early morning hours but Hermione found she couldn’t sleep. Her mind had been whirring with the words that Adrian had spoken to her—and the harsh reality of the truth has hit her over the head like a Bludger...

_She_ had been the impetus for her feud with Malfoy.

She had been the one to humiliate him first and thereby setting off a chain reaction of hateful words and hurt feelings.

It was a bitter pill to swallow.

As she stared out her bedroom window, Hermione sighed as she recalled Malfoy’s face from the night before. His expression had been completely closed off, _hardened_—almost sad in a way. She’d been discreet in her observations and at one point after she and Adrian had returned to the party, she saw Malfoy at the bar looking like he’d fully intended to get drunk.

That had been unexpected.

No, he hadn’t looked sad—he’d looked _defeated_.

Shaking her head, Hermione realized that she’d never seen that particular expression on the ferret’s face before. Then she sighed in consternation at herself.

How was she supposed to do better, think better—if she was still insulting him within her own thoughts?

Draco Malfoy was and probably still could be considered an elitist, prejudiced wizard. He wasn’t very well liked at school, even those within his own House gave him a wide berth. Adrian had mentioned Draco’s status within the Pureblood elite, and the poncey git himself had chuffed about it to anyone who’d listen.

But Hermione had to wonder if that was the real Malfoy, or the one he was expected to be...

One thing had been fairly self evident last night—Parkinson was no longer hanging off the blonde wizard’s arm like a cheap suit. 

In fact, she’d disappeared fairly quickly and hadn’t returned to the party as far as Hermione could tell.

Shaking her head for a second time, Hermione sighed as she sat up and headed towards the loo. Looking at her clock, it was nearly eight in the morning and both Bill, Theo, Ron and the twins would be at Gringotts by nine. Her Grandmother had thought it might be good to have as much family support as she needed today. Molly, Arthur and Ginny were taking tea at the MacMillan estate—which Hermione had thought interesting. It would seem that perhaps Ginny was finally putting her Harry infatuation behind and setting her sights on another wizard.

Ernie was a good guy. Part of the DA, and fairly smart. He played Quidditch too, he was a Beater for Hufflepuff. At least Ginny had found someone with similar interests.

Moving out into her bedroom, Hermione heard a noise coming from her balcony and she walked outside—smiling at Adrian’s owl Bobo, who was hooting at her as he extended out his leg.

“Hello, pretty boy. Would you like a treat?”

Bobo hooted again, so Hermione went inside a grabbed a couple owl treats for him. When she returned she fed Bobo as she reached with her hand to untie the letter from his talon.

When he was finished, Bobo hooted once and then flew away...clearly not expecting a response.

Hermione sat down on her chaise, which was rattan with a comfy feathered cushion and placed her legs under her as she opened her mail. Her face breaking out into a wide smile as she read the missive.

_ **Good morning little witch,** _

_ **I just wanted to tell you how much I enjoyed spending the evening with you last night. I know I said it, but you were the most beautiful witch in the room, and I was just the lucky sod who got to be on your arm.** _

(Hermione giggled at that)

_ **I know you have big plans today and school starts again in a few days. I didn’t know if you’ve gotten your books for school, but I thought perhaps if you hadn’t, we might meet tomorrow in Diagon Alley? Have lunch, peruse the book store to your heart’s content? Maybe sneak in a snog here and there?** _

_ **Just a thought...** _

_ **Be careful today. I know this has all been a culture shock for you, just know that you’re not alone. If you ever need me, just owl me—and I’m there.** _

_ **I miss you.** _

_ **Yours,  
Adrian** _

Hermione’s heart fluttered and she fanned herself with the letter as she plopped back down on her bed—her face split into the widest grin of her life.

Adrian was truly a quality wizard and she liked him _very_ much.

A light tapping noise broke her out of her reverie and she waved her hand, opening the door for Harry as there wouldn’t be anyone else bothering her this early in the morning.

She turned her head towards the door, and saw Harry’s head peek around the opening.

“You decent?”

She chuckled and nodded, waving him to come inside.

“Yes, Harry.”

Her brother rushed over and flung himself on her bed, causing them both to laugh uproariously, and Hermione was happy that Harry seemed to be settled after everything.

“What’s up?”

Hermione blushed, which caused Harry to grin wider. She waved Adrian’s letter and Harry reached for it—silently asking for permission. Her nod let him know it was alright and as he read the parchment, his eyes widened first in surprise and then in amusement.

“You have an admirer.” He said at last, handing her back the note.

“Yes.” Her initial smile fell a bit, and Harry reached for her hand and gave her a questioning look. “Sorry.” She said quietly. “I was just thinking about something Adrian said to me last night.”

“Which was?”

“Do you remember that day back in second year? When Slytherin commandeered the pitch when Malfoy had made Seeker?”

Harry’s expression darkened, and Hermione knew he remembered.

“What about it?”

“Well—Adrian educated me on something about that day. And after thinking about it, I have to admit? He made an excellent point.”

“Oh-kay?” Harry’s face registered impatience and Hermione just pushed him off the bed, his shout of ‘_Hey!’ _causing her to laugh in glee.

“Was that really necessary?”

“You had that Harry look on your face...full of impatience. I was getting to the point!”

“Fine! Fine!” Harry groused as he rubbed his arse before sitting back down next to her.

“As I was saying...” he snickered and folded his hands in his lap, waiting patiently for her to continue which she did after bestowing an eye roll... “that day...Adrian reminded me that the entire argument was in fact, started by _me_.”

“In what way?” Harry’s confusion was sweet, as if he simply couldn’t fathom her being downright mean to anyone on purpose.

“I made the assumption that the only reason Malfoy got the spot as Seeker was because his Father ‘_bought_’ his way onto the team.”

Harry’s expression blanched and he coughed out a stuttered, “He didn’t?”

“Not according to Adrian. Malfoy earned his spot, but because I had humiliated him in front of everyone—that’s why he chose to respond with the mudblood slur. When I thought about it, I’d realized that Adrian in all likelihood was correct. Malfoy never gave me much thought, nor said much to me at all our first year. He hated you and Ron by association, but I was just the lowly Muggleborn—beneath his notice. Until that day. Then the mudblood comments started in earnest, not just with him but all of Slytherin House. I just never connected the dots until last night.”

Harry sat there shocked as he racked his brain trying to find some fault with his sister’s logic, and not finding any.

Eventually he sighed in defeat and pushed up his glasses on his nose, rubbing his scar as he was wont to do when he was agitated.

“Alright, say that I believe this? Mione, it still doesn’t excuse how hateful Malfoy was to you!”

“But Harry, we were just as mean spirited to him! I punched him for Merlin’s sake and despite that, he never raised his wand to me.”

Harry huffed but didn’t reply at first, and then said... “What about wishing you dead in second year? Or the hex, fourth year?”

Hermione sighed and thought about it logically for a few moments. The hex fourth year wasn’t exactly meant for her...Malfoy’s intended target had been Harry. 

She’d just gotten caught in the crossfire.

Wishing her dead?

That wasn’t something she could easily dismiss.

“The hex fourth year, we both know that was meant for you, not me. As far as Malfoy wishing me dead? I don’t know Harry? It’s not as if he wasn’t still likely smarting from the previous altercation, but perhaps there was more to it than that? All I know is, we are going back to school in a few days and I’m going to be a prefect this year, as will Malfoy. I don’t want to keep up this vicious cycle of hatred and prejudice. Can you honestly sit there and tell me that the bigotry is completely one-sided?”

Harry just groaned as he rubbed his hands down his face, taking his glasses off and staring at her morosely. Hermione knew she had Harry.

She knew he couldn’t deny the truth.

“Fine!” He finally spit out. “If we mean to affect change, we have to be the change we want to be...right?”

Hermione smiled and hugged her brother tightly. “Yes. There’s no more Voldemort. No more fighting for our lives. Wouldn’t it be grand to have a stress-free year?”

Harry guffawed at that, his expression now disbelieving. “Mione? You’re a study-aholic. I don’t think it’s in you to have a relaxing year. I know it’s not NEWTS yet, but we both know you’re going to barricade yourself in that library at school and Ron and I will be lucky to get you out for meals and Quidditch.”

“Very funny, Harry Potter.”

“Come on, let’s go get some breakfast before we head out this morning to meet everyone. Where are we meeting up at?”

Hermione stood up and followed Harry downstairs and into the dining room where Corky was putting out everything on the buffet.

“Gringotts actually. Apparently the goblins need to be paid for their services before Bill can take us through the wards.”

“And Bunny?”

Hermione grimaced, remembering when she’d first called for Bunny the day after her mother’s will reading. The elf had been beside herself, clinging onto Hermione and sobbing hysterically at being reunited with her mistress. It had made for an uncomfortable few days as Hermione had decided to let Bill take care of the wards and making sure the Manor was livable before she went back there. In that time, she’d spent all her free moments with Theo, reading up on elf magic and their bonds with witches and wizards.

In the end, Hermione had been sick with shame.

It would seem that elvish magic was strongest when bonded to a Wizarding magical family. The earliest recordings of elvish magic were well over 1000 years ago. Elves, were the remnants of the light fae that had passed into legend some centuries before that. Elves, as fae creatures, fed on the magic of their Wizarding families to keep them alive and healthy. But there was a cost too. If a Wizarding Family was too dark...too corrupted by dark Magic’s, an elf could seek to break the bond—but only if there was another wizard or witch to bond with. When Hermione had read that, she’d realized immediately how Dobby was able to leave the Malfoy family.

Because he’d bonded with Harry.

When she’d told her brother, he’d called for Dobby and questioned him. The little elf had tried to deny it, but after much persuasion he’d cried and admitted that ‘_he is belonged to Harry Potter.’_

Harry had been horrified and Hermione had realized that to try and free an elf without having another magical to take the bond was in essence—sentencing them to death.

She’d cried for two days after that...worrying both Theo and Harry to the point they’d owled Tonks, who had graciously agreed to come over and calm the younger witch down.

Hermione thanked Corky for her breakfast and sat down, slowly eating her food as she watched Harry smirking at her.

“Don’t look at me like that, Harry! I didn’t know and neither did you!”

Harry grimaced, thinking about Dobby and then he sighed. “I know. We are both woefully out of our depth, Mione. This summer has been interesting, but frankly I’m glad to be going back to Hogwarts.”

“Me too.” She admitted with a small grin. “At least I can pack my jeans and take them with me and Grandmother won’t ever have to know!”

Harry laughed at Hermione’s wistful expression.

She’d missed certain things about her old Muggle life—her parents obviously, but coming in a close second to that was her jeans. She’d secreted several new pairs into her trunk under a concealment charm just to be safe.

“Of course I’ll _know_, Dearest.” Muriel smirked as she walked into the dining room, clearly amused by the crestfallen expression of her granddaughter’s face. She sighed softly as she sat down and allowed Corky to serve her breakfast, before she engaged back into the conversation.

“I won’t tell you not to wear them, Hermione. I only ask that you do so judiciously. I’m sure I can trust your judgement to know when and where such attire is appropriate?”

Hermione nodded emphatically, happy to have this concession. “I can promise that.”

“Excellent. Are you both ready for today?”

Harry looked to his sister who just shrugged. “I am both nervous and excited, but there’s a part of me that just wants to get it over with too. This feels like one final hurdle before I can settle into my life back at school for the next year.”

“I’m sure William will have everything in hand. From what he’s shared with me...Bunny had taken him directly through the wards once you gave he and Gringotts permission to do so. The Fidelius will only be broken if you wish it however, Hermione. So you must decide if that’s something you would be accepting of.”

“You don’t think I should?”

Muriel’s gaze was piercing as she said, “From what I’ve been led to understand? Mr. Potter has a residence under Fidelius too. It’s never a bad idea to have at least one place the Ministry and others can’t track. Just to be safe.”

Hermione thought about that for a moment before she sighed and nodded. “I will give it some thought, Grandmother.”

When the time came for them to head to Diagon Alley, Hermione wasn’t surprised to see it so busy. Many people were out getting their books for school and she’d been so engrossed in watching everyone that she didn’t see the small girl who ran right into her with a loud ‘_Oumph_!’

Luckily Harry had caught her arm, but the little girl wasn’t quite so fortunate, as she’d fallen on the cobblestones and had skinned her hands.

“Are you alright?”

Hermione crouched down and waved her hand, cleaning up the little girl’s scrapes and earning a happy smile for her efforts.

“You’re a witch too?”

Hermione looked back over at Harry, who was smirking down at the child.

“I am. My name is Hermione and this is my brother, Harry.”

“Hullo. My name is Sally.”

Looking around for any signs of adults, Hermione brow furrowed when she didn’t notice anyone. “Where are your mum and dad.”

Sally’s face fell, and she just lifted her shoulders helplessly, as Hermione helped her retrieve her items that had spilt over the Alley.

“My Da left me at the pub when we came inside.”

The confusion cleared as Hermione understood what Sally was referring to.

“The Leaky?”

“Yes! That’s it!” Sally nodded enthusiastically, “I’m supposed to meet him after I get my stuff for school.”

Sally produced a list and Hermione smiled as she concluded that the small witch was going to be attending Hogwarts and would be a first year.

“Is your dad a wizard?” Harry asked politely and Sally just shook her head.

“Nope. My mum died when I was a baby, but I don’t think she was a witch either.”

Hermione and Harry shared a knowing look. This young witch was a Muggleborn and clearly had no family to help her get situated. Based on what she had so far, she had only managed to get a couple books and some writing supplies.

“Would you like some help?” Hermione asked and watched as Sally’s eyes widened in relief.

“You don’t mind?”

“No, I think we could get this done rather quickly and get you back to your dad.” She turned to Harry. “Go tell Bill I’ll be there in about an hour, if that’s alright.”

“Sure, Mione. Have fun.” Harry smiled at the young witch and said, “It was great to meet you, Sally. I’m sure I will see you on the train in a few days.”

“Thanks, Mr. Harry!”

Harry chuckled as he made his way down the Diagon Alley missing the besotted look from the young witch.

“He’s fit.”

Hermione choked out a giggle as her shoulders rolled with surprised laughter.

“I wouldn’t know about that, Sally.”

“Right, cause he’s your brother.” The little girl’s expression was serious and Hermione couldn’t help but grin at how adorable she was with her large brown eyes and unruly curly hair.

She looked like a young Hermione Granger.

“Come on, Sally, let’s get you situated. Do you have enough galleons?”

Sally handed the small pouch that looked like a used one from Gringotts that they gave to Muggleborns when they’d come in to exchange Muggle pounds for galleons.

There was barely enough in there to buy a set of robes.

Not to mention she still needed a wand.

“Sally, didn’t whomever come to talk to you and your dad tell you how much the supplies would be?”

The young girl shrugged and bit her lip hard, and Hermione could see tears welling in her eyes.

She crouched down and tilted the girl’s head so she could wipe the tears away.

“My Da said that this was all we had for my school and I’d have to make due. I don’t think he really understood it all, you know?”

Hermione sighed, but nodded.

“No matter. I can help you get what you need.”

Sally’s big brown eyes widened even further as her lower lip wobbled. “I’m not supposed to take charity.”

Hermione held her hand out and waited until Sally placed her hand in it and they slowly walked back towards the bookstore together.

“Just tell your dad that Hogwarts has donations for new students. Which they technically do, if a parent knows to ask for it. I’m just surprised no one told him.”

Sally shrugged again, but didn’t confirm or deny if she or her Father had been informed of the school fund.

As it turned out, their shopping took about an hour and Hermione had even found a trunk that Sally could use for school. She placed a permanent featherweight charm on it, so the young witch could tug it around behind her with ease. Their last stop was Ollivanders, and Sally had been so excited to get her wand. 

It was a Beech wand with a unicorn core. 

When Ollivander had told the young girl about the properties of said wand, she’d listened with rapt attention and nodded most seriously...promising to take excellent care of her wand.

When they got back to the Leaky, they only had to wait a bit until Sally’s Father came to collect her.

“Da!”

“There you are, kiddo. Did you get all your stuff for school?”

Sally nodded enthusiastically, and then her Father’s gaze shifted to Hermione with a suspicious glare.

“Who ‘r you?”

Hermione sighed, taking in the Muggle man who was probably already two sheets gone into his cups.

“My name is Hermione Prewett, and I literally ran into your daughter in Diagon Alley.”

“She helped me get my stuff for school!” Sally bounced up in excitement. “And I got a wand!”

The man eyed the stick with disbelief, before noticing the trunk that his daughter was dragging behind her.

“What’s that?”

“All students have to put their school belongings in a trunk. This one is charmed to be extra light so you both can carry it wherever you go and it’s the right size to fit into the boot of a car or taxi.”

“How do you know about such things?” The man sneered.

“I was born in London. My adoptive parents were dentists. I recently discovered that my biological parents left me with relatives when they were killed.”

The man blanched and stuttered out what might otherwise pass for an apology, but Sally just took her hand and said, “I’m sorry, Hermione. That sucks.”

Hermione nodded and tapped Sally on her nose. “You come and find me on the train, okay? I’ll make sure to introduce you to a few people you might like.”

“That’d be great!”

Hermione turned her attention back to the Muggle man and smiled in what she hoped was a welcoming way. “I didn’t get your name.”

“Oh,” he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, “the name is Martin. Martin Kelley.”

“It was nice to make your acquaintance, Mr. Kelley. You too, Sally. I will see you both September first.”

“Bye, Hermione!” The young girl waved as her father led her out of the pub.

Once they were gone, Hermione re-entered Diagon and headed towards Gringotts. 

Hopefully Harry, Bill, Theo and the Twins wouldn’t be too upset with her for keeping them waiting.


	23. McKinnon Manor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione and her family pay a visit to her ancestral home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who’ve reviewed and left a kudo.

Once Hermione had met up with everyone—Bill had her call for Bunny, who led them all through the wards and onto the McKinnon Property. The one time she’d been here previously, Hermione hadn’t ventured beyond the main home—but now she, Harry and Theo found themselves outside on the Manor—taking in the expansive setting before them.

The very old yew trees that bordered on the property’s western edge had to be some of the oldest trees in England. They were huge, and as Hermione wandered underneath the twisted branches—she could feel the magic radiating from one in particular, that was centered within the family stones and had to be more than hundreds of years old.

Hermione touched the base of the yew tree and felt her magic flare to life as the tree groaned—shimmered and then the branches moved outwards like it was reaching for the sun. Both Harry and Theo stood back in awe as they watched Hermione’s magic swirl around the large yew and then there was a flash of pure white light and when they all looked back towards the Manor—the grounds were coming to life right before their eyes.

“Amazing!” Theo whispered while Harry just nodded dumbfounded. 

When the Twins finally came outside with Bill—they all were stunned by the renewed life spreading throughout the lands surrounding McKinnon Manor.

The yew tree groaned again and then shook its branches one last time before it quieted. Hermione smiled in awe as she moved back and took in her surroundings—which had completely changed.

There was a soft pop of apparition and Bunny stood there, wringing her hands with large tears falling down her face.

“Missy Hermione’s Magics brings new life!”

Hermione beamed at the little creature, who looked so overjoyed. When she turned back to Bill, he walked over and tilted his head towards a winding pathway—indicating he wanted her to follow.

They all walked together as a group until they’d reached the most western border of the property, and Hermione gasped in wonder as she gazed beyond the thirty foot iron gates and into the surrounding area. She recognized this place...it was Kingley Vale...the oldest forest in all of England. Her Muggle parents had taken her here as a child and she remembered the feeling of peace washing over her as she ran through the old trees—laughing and playing hide and seek with her parents.

“What is it, Mione?”

“I’ve been here before.” Hermione pointed out towards a long narrow pathway that led down the hill from where they were, into an open meadow far below. “This is Kingley Vale, the oldest forested area in all of England. We are in West Sussex, Chichester.”

Theo nodded. “I remember reading about this place once, in an old Norse text. It was believed that the branch of Yggdrasil resided here within the forest.”

Hermione’s eyes lit with curiosity. “That’s amazing! I’ve never heard of that.”

Theo looked back the way they’d come, his expression thoughtful. “That yew tree you touched within the McKinnon family stones? You don’t think?”

Hermione smiled at her cousin and shrugged. “That’s fairly fantastical, Theo. Besides, I’m not sure I exactly believe in old Norse legends and the like.”

Theo chuckled and Harry smiled at his sister’s skepticism. “You’re such a spoil sport, Mione.” Harry pouted, and everyone snickered at the blush that stole over Hermione’s cheeks.

Bill pointed north. “The edge of the property is about 3km along this pathway. The southern border is a bit closer.”

“And it’s still under fidelius?”

Bill nodded. “I did some checking with Gringotts and this property at least to their knowledge, has never been registered with them. I also did some further checking with the Ministry and they have another property listed as the McKinnon’s family home. For whatever reason, this property here isn’t widely known and probably wasn’t—outside the main branch of the family.”

Hermione scrunched her face in confusion. “I don’t understand? Why didn’t they stay here? They would’ve been protected!”

Bill shrugged. “That’s a very good question, Hermione. For some reason the McKinnon family decided against it. Looking at the warded enchantments on this place, I’d speculate the only properties that might be more secure are possibly Grimmauld, Malfoy Manor and Hogwarts itself.”

Everyone stared at Bill, as they processed this information.

“So why would they have left, if this home was as secure as it was?” Harry asked, perplexed.

“I don’t know, Harry.” Bill replied uncomfortably. “Either they determined this home was somehow compromised, or it was recommended they find elsewhere to hide.”

Hermione glanced around in contemplation. 

None of this made sense to her at all. 

The Potters had gone into hiding too.

“Do you know where Harry’s parents had disappeared to?”

“Godric’s Hollow.”

Harry hummed in agreement, remembering that Sirius and Remus had told him something along those lines after Peter Pettigrew had been outed as his parent’s secret keeper back during his third year. He then scowled. That rat-faced traitor was still out there somewhere too. 

Could he have also been behind the exposure of Mione’s parents?

“Do you think that Pettigrew might’ve been the one responsible for outing the McKinnons to Voldemort?”

Hermione’s eyes widened as she stared at her brother. “Maybe? I mean, it would make sense.”

Harry sighed and nodded as he moved over towards the pathway heading back to the Manor. Everyone followed in silence until they reached the large yew where they’d started. Looking around, Harry had to admit that McKinnon Manor was impressive. It made him wonder if the Potter family had a Manor too.

“Bill?”

“Yeah, Harry?”

“Do you know if the Potter family had an ancestral home?”

Bill was thoughtful for a few moments but eventually nodded. “More than likely. I could check at Gringotts for you Harry, and see if there is any information or paperwork filed with the Goblins in regard to a family home.”

“Thanks, Bill. I’d appreciate it.”

Their small group continued to wander around the property and Hermione was astonished at how much her magic responded to her surroundings. At Fosgate Hall, she’d witnessed the morning after Harry’s bonding ceremony how her magic had renewed the flora and fauna on the grounds, but this was something else entirely. The magic here was old...older than anything she’d ever felt. Possibly older than Hogwarts itself. And it was coming to life right before her eyes.

How was that even possible?

Her magic seemed happy to be here.

Relaxed, settled, _free_.

It should’ve been disconcerting, but oddly felt right.

“How old do you think this property is, Bill?”

The elder wizard shrugged again. “I honestly don’t know.” He admitted with a slight frown. “I’m not sure there’s really anyway to determine how old this ancestral home is. Or how long it’s been here.”

As they continued to walk around the borders of McKinnon Manor, Hermione and Harry pointed out several things to each other. There was an old stable near a body of water, that was too small to be a lake but much too large to be considered a pond. As they wandered near the northern border of the property there was a smallish carriage house, that was probably several hundred years old at least. The cobblestoned masonry was a spectacular piece of workmanship, as each stone was set with a specific geometric purpose—the varying colors almost gave the siding a greenish burnished hue as it glistened in the sunlight.

Curious, Hermione walked over to the large oak door and pulled on the iron latch, which opened immediately. The door was heavy, and squeaked a bit as she moved it open and wandered inside.

She didn’t pay attention to whom had followed her as she moved from room to room. There was a old kitchen with a stone hearth, a small sitting room and an even smaller dining room and two bedrooms down a singular hallway that led to the back of the home where they were separated by a washroom with a copper claw foot tub, sink and wash basin.

It was clear no one had lived in this cottage for a very long time.

“It’s very quaint.” Harry said behind her, startling Hermione as she’d been so engrossed in taking in everything, she’d forgotten she wasn’t alone.

“It is.” She agreed readily, moving into the larger of the two rooms and immediately noticing a bookshelf in the corner. Intrigued, Hermione went over and picked up one of the dusty tomes and wiped the cover facing, her eyes widening at the title...

**Skáldskaparmál**: an old Norse text that was written sometime in the latter part of the nineteenth century. Setting it down carefully, Hermione picked up a second book and wiped the cover gently, her mouth falling open on a gasp at the title: **Ynglinga saga.**

“What is it?” Harry walked over, taking a look at the books Hermione had set aside. “What language is that?”

“Old Norse.” Hermione breathed out in wonder. The remainder of the books were also along the same genre, except for the last one that was in a language she didn’t recognize at all. It was the oldest of the texts, possibly several hundred years old. 

“This book however, I don’t recognize the writings at all. It looks to be Runes of some kind.”

Harry nodded. “Maybe. Maybe you should have Bunny come and take these back to the Manor. They’re obviously valuable and belonged to someone in your family.”

Staring down at the old text in her hands, Hermione had an odd feeling—one she couldn’t exactly place, but something told her these books were not meant to leave this house.

“No, I think I’ll leave them here. For some reason they were kept here and I don’t think I should take them yet without doing a bit more research.” 

Waving her hand, she removed the dust from the books and placed them under a stasis charm—to protect them.

Harry didn’t argue, but she could tell he was confused. As they moved out of the carriage house together, they met up with Theo and George, who had found another building about a quarter mile down the pathway.

“There’s another larger carriage house just down the road.” Theo pointed to the way they’d come from. “It looks in a bit better shape than this old place. Did you find anything?”

Harry gave his sister a sidelong glance, and noticed her dainty shrug. “Just some old Norse books. There wasn’t anything else in the house of note.”

Theo’s blue eyes were clearly assessing, but he just nodded and the group moved along the pathway towards the larger cottage. As they disappeared around the bend, they missed a shimmering of green light near the outcropping of trees on the backside of the small cottage. 

The light glowed momentarily and then vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

The remainder of the day was spent cataloguing the property, it’s boundaries and all the buildings upon it. All told, there were six structures including the main house, which housed ten rooms, eight bathrooms, a large parlour, a formal dining room, a full kitchen, a basement, a large attic, two studies and three living rooms. The furnishings, paintings, tapestries, beddings and kitchenwear were all in pristine condition thanks to Bunny and her family. There were four elves in all—Bunny being the youngest. Her parents: Wippy and Poppy and another sister named Kippy. They were sweet and followed Hermione around like her very own Fan club. Harry had snickered on more than one occasion that it was funny that Hermione had her own house elves.

She’d hexed him with a stinging jinx for his impertinence, causing Theo to joke that he’d deserved it.

As they were getting ready to leave, Hermione crouched down to Bunny’s level. 

She was curious as to why they’d stayed in the home so long alone.

“Would you like to come to Fosgate Hall with me, Bunny? You and your family could come stay there?”

The elf wrung her hands together and shook her head. “Oh, no’s Missy Hermione! We stays here and tends to the grounds and keeps it clean for yous.”

Hermione’s face scrunched in confusion. “I don’t understand. I’m not planning on living here full time, Bunny.”

“We’s know it, Missy Hermione. Buts we’s bound to you and the home here. It’s ours duty to takes cares of it.”

Nodding in resignation, Hermione stood back up and noticed Harry’s look of contemplation.

“Bunny? Do you know why Hermione’s mother Marlene and her family didn’t decide to hide here from Voldemort.”

The elf hissed at the name. “Bad’s wizard he’s was! Mistress was tolds by the older wizard that it’s wasn’t safe to stays here.”

“The older wizard?” Hermione queried softly.

“Yes, Mistress. Pointy hat, longs bearded wizard. Told Master and Mistress they needed to leave to be’s safe.”

Hermione’s gaze locked first with Harry and then Theo, who was standing back against the far wall looking uncomfortable. 

Hermione then smiled at Bunny and said, “Thank you, Bunny. I’ll be back before I leave for Hogwarts on September First.”

“Yes, Missy Hermione.”

And the elf popped away, leaving three very stunned people thinking exactly the same thing.

Harry cleared his throat awkwardly before saying, “Are you thinking the same thing I am?”

Hermione nodded and Theo did the same.

Why would the Headmaster have had her mother’s family leave this place? 

It didn’t make any sense.

“Do you think he’d tell us?”

Theo chuckled lowly, gaining the attention of the other two.

“You’re _joking_ right?” His voice was filled with cold amusement. “When are you both going to learn that he’s not to be trusted?”

Unfortunately, Hermione was beginning to wonder if Theo wasn’t right.


	24. Reminders

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione spends the afternoon before returning to Hogwarts in Diagon Alley.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the love for this story!

The remainder of the summer breezed by with shopping for school robes, books and the like. Hermione had met with Adrian for lunch the day before she and Harry were to leave back to Hogwarts, and he seemed happy enough to spend the afternoon wandering around Diagon Alley, while she rushed to and fro.

They eventually met back up with Harry, Theo and Ron—who had been over at Quality Quidditch Supplies to get broom polish and broom servicing kits and gloves for the upcoming Quidditch season. Ron was hoping to try out for Keeper, and Harry had made Quidditch Captain, to no one’s surprise.

Theo had no desire to play the sport, but he liked to watch well enough.

They were all sitting down for lunch at the Leaky, when the floo flashed and out walked Blaise Zabini and Malfoy.

“Hey, mate.” Adrian said politely and Draco nodded, ignoring the hard stares from Potter and Weasley.

“Adrian, Theo.”

“Hey, Draco. You getting your supplies for school?”

The blonde wizard nodded. “Blaise and I just got back from Italy.”

“Nothing like waiting to the last minute.” Ron piped in and Draco sneered at the red-head in response.

“Actually, Weasley? I was there as a favor for my Godfather, who asked me to pick up a few things for him that he needed for class this year. Unfortunately, one of the vendors didn’t come through until late yesterday, and I didn’t relish returning empty handed.”

Adrian chuckled. “No, I can’t imagine Professor Snape being understanding if you were to do so.”

Hermione’s eyes widened and she noticed Harry seemed surprised, too.

“I didn’t realize Professor Snape was your Godfather, Malfoy?”

Before Draco could reply, Ron interrupted with, “No wonder he _favors_ you. There’s no way you’d get better marks than Mione if he wasn’t your Godfather!”

“Ronald!” Hermione admonished, trying very hard not to blush.

“That’s uncalled for, Ron.” Adrian reprimanded firmly. “Draco has always been a dab hand at potions.”

“Yeah, right...” Ron mumbled, and Harry kicked him under the table along with a quick head shake.

“Leave it, mate.”

“Don’t worry, Potter,” Draco drawled arrogantly, “I don’t need you to stick up for me with him.”

“Shut it, Malfoy!” Ron growled, causing Draco to roll his eyes in disgust.

“Let’s go, Blaise. No sense in staying here any longer than we have to.”

Blaise nodded to Adrian and Theo and followed Draco out of the Leaky.

When they were gone, Hermione turned to Ron and glared at him angrily.

“What is your problem, Ronald? I know our history with Malfoy isn’t exactly stellar, but he was actually being polite before you had to go and act like a git.”

“Me?” Ron scoffed loudly. “Malfoy _is_ the git! Walks into the place like he owns it—all smug and pompous!”

Realizing that nothing she was going to say would break through Ron’s thick skull, Hermione just kept her mouth shut and politely excused herself, claiming she needed to powder her nose.

Adrian stood up and held his hand out for her, his expression concerned but he wisely didn’t respond to Ron’s tirade as he watched his witch move towards the back of the pub.

When he turned back to his seat, he noticed Theo’s gaze had followed Hermione too, while Potter was just glaring at Weasley with an unhappy scowl on his face.

Adrian had to wonder how the two wizards had managed to stay friends for so long, as it was clear to him that Potter had a reasonable head on his shoulders and Weasley was irrational at best. Theo caught his eye and smirked, causing Adrian to subtly shake his head at the younger wizard. 

It wouldn’t do him any good to alienate Hermione’s friends, even if he’d rather not associate with the red-headed prat.

As he tucked back into his lunch, he couldn’t help but think about Draco’s expression. He almost seemed hurt by the confrontation. It was unusual for Draco to make such an overture, even if he and Theo had been sitting here the pompous blonde would’ve never had come over and said _hello_ under normal circumstances.

It was almost as if he was trying to offer an olive branch. 

He’d actually been...not exactly friendly...but he had been polite.

To _Potter_.

Looking back over his shoulder, Adrian kept a keen eye on where Hermione had gone but she hadn’t returned yet. He knew he didn’t need to worry about her, but he couldn’t help himself. Now that she was a part of his life, he could finally admit that he was quite taken with the witch.

Always had been, if he was being honest with himself.

She was a firecracker. 

Smart, cunning and gorgeous.

Even with the slight changes in her appearance, she was even _more_ beautiful. He was still amazed that she liked spending time with him and allowed certain physical intimacies.

He really enjoyed snogging her.

He enjoyed it _a lot._

Hearing her voice, he looked back up and saw her talking to a witch he didn’t recognize. She had long blonde hair and a wistful expression on her face.

“Potter, who is Hermione talking to?”

Harry glanced up over Pucey’s shoulder and smiled. “That’s Luna Lovegood. Ravenclaw. A year younger than Mione, Ron and me.”

Adrian nodded. He’d heard of the name, but didn’t know much about the witch. By the smile on Hermione face though, they seemed to be well acquainted.

His supposition proved accurate when Hermione returned to their table with said witch in tow.

“Hey, everyone. Adrian, Theo...this is Luna Lovegood. Luna...Theodore Nott and Adrian Pucey.”

Both wizards stood and Theo (being the gallant gentleman he was) offered the witch a seat—which she took with a small smile of thanks. 

Conversation flowed easily from there.

Luna had always been a bit eccentric, but she also saw things others didn’t see—or simply chose not to. She had known there was something different about Hermione when she’d met her—the witch’s aura had been all wrong. But now, it was as if everything was better—not perfect, but more in harmony that it had been before.

It was easy to understand now why that was, but Luna knew that her friend wouldn’t be complete until she found her other half.

Sadly, it _wasn’t_ the wizard sitting next to her.

Adrian Pucey was very handsome and kind for a Slytherin, but his aura was all wrong for her friend, and Luna was fairly certain it wasn’t her place to say anything. 

Sometimes, people needed to discover these things for themselves.

Her large blue eyes settled on Theodore Nott, and he was watching her with a bemused sort of smile on his face.

He was rather handsome for a snake.

“Hello, Theodore Nott.”

Everyone at their table quieted, while Theo’s eyes widened slightly at being addressed—but after a split second he bowed his head in greeting.

“Miss Lovegood.”

“Oh, are we reverting to our formal names?” Luna’s voice was airy as she twirled her ring around her finger. “I didn’t realize.”

Adrian’s expression was clearly amused as he winked at Hermione, who just smiled at her whimsical friend.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize that the two of you hadn’t been formally introduced.”

“Oh, that’s alright, Hermione,” Luna’s voice was cheery, “I sometimes forget about doing things the proper way. Perhaps it’s the narlywhickets or the blibbering humdingers. There does seem to be an infestation of them in particular today.”

Ron rolled his eyes and mumbled something unkind under his breath, earning him a glare from Hermione and a kick on his shin under the table from Harry.

His stuttered pained yelp caused the Slytherins to chuckle.

Theo turned back to the blonde witch intrigued.

“What’s a narlywhicket?”

Luna’s gaze was intense as she considered the question and him for several seconds. It was almost as if she was staring into his soul, trying to determine if her was being sincere in his question or making fun of her.

After a bit she shrugged and said, “Narlywhickets are magical creatures that are attracted to negative emotions.”

Theo sighed, unsure what to think but curious in spite of the fact that he was fairly certain the witch sitting across from him was certifiable.

“And a blibbering...”

“Humdinger?” Luna finished airily. Theo nodded and she hummed thoughtfully as she gazed around at nothing in particular for another few moments before she spoke up in that serene, calm voice.

“Hmmm...you know, you seem much lighter, Theodore Nott.”

Theo face blanched as he wasn’t sure if that was an answer to his question or not.

“I’m sorry?”

“Oh, there’s no need to apologize. Not to me anyway.”

The young Nott Heir turned to the others, his eyebrows now elevated in confusion. It seemed Adrian didn’t know what to think either, as his own expression was clearly perplexed. Harry just smiled at his friend while Ron scoffed.

“Luna?” Hermione began, “Have you done your shopping yet?”

“No. Daddy and I just got back from Sweden where we were hunting the Crumple-Horned Snorkack.”

Everyone just eyed each other, but Hermione finally shook her head with a fond smile. “I take it you didn’t find one?”

“No, they’re terribly elusive.”

“Probably cause they’re not real.” Ron murmured under his breath, ignoring the heated stare being sent his way from his two best friend’s.

“Let’s go pick out your things.” Hermione said haughtily as she reached for her bag. Adrian, ever the gentleman, stood up and offered her his arm and Theo did the same for Luna. The look she gave him was bemused, but she hummed again as she took the proferred appendage. 

Hermione gave a firm stare to Harry, who nodded at the unspoken demand.

“Come on Ron, let’s go back to the Quidditch Store. I saw some new Cannon’s gear.”

Ron’s mouth was full as he said, “Sure. Lemme finish here.”

Harry sighed but sat back, winking at Hermione who blew him a kiss before allowing Adrian to lead her out into the Alley.

As they were walking, Hermione was mindful of all the looks of interest she and Adrian were getting. It hadn’t taken long for Pureblood Society to speculate that the two of them were unofficially courting this past summer, but now that they been together for about a month and she would be returning to Hogwarts without him, Hermione knew that Adrian was somewhat uncertain how to proceed.

She wasn’t sure she was ready for some big declaration.

She liked Adrian very much. He was a perfect gentleman, had a wicked sense of humor, was intelligent, handsome.

And her stomach erupted in butterflies every time he kissed her.

She really liked that part the best.

“Where are we headed to?” His voice was like silken honey as he whispered it deeply into her ear. She couldn’t repress the shiver of excitement even if she’d wanted to.

Hermione’s blue eyes locked with Adrian’s warm brown ones, that were filled with a different kind of heat and she bit her lip playfully, watching his eyes lock onto the action. His answering smirk made her stomach swoop and pool with need.

“Probably Madam Malkin’s?”

Adrian just lifted an eyebrow but nodded as he moved towards their destination, knowing that Theo would follow regardless.

The younger wizard had made it his personal mission to keep an eye out for his cousin. He knew that the vultures in their world were circling, waiting to smell blood in the water. While he liked Adrian well enough, there were several—far less scrupulous wizards who Theo wouldn’t put it past to try and slip Hermione a love potion.

And then there was Draco.

Theo wasn’t an idiot—never had been. He’d been there the day that Hermione had punched Draco third year and he’d seen his friend’s reaction.

At first Draco had been livid, incensed...

But once those emotions calmed down, his fellow Slytherin had been contemplative...

_Almost predatory._

He’d watch Hermione with a singular focus as if he was trying to puzzle out how she could’ve hit him, and why he’d not retaliated.

And his friend had not retaliated.

_And it had been noticed._

Any Slytherin who had faced such an injustice to their pride, would’ve bided their time and taken the best opportunity to humiliate their quarry in return. Some had whispered, after the _desangueo_ hex fourth year, that Draco had finally gotten his revenge, as everyone had heard about the punch the year prior.

But that hex hadn’t been meant for Hermione—it had been meant for Potter.

Theo had known it and had seen Draco’s expression when Snape had made his hateful comment. His grey eyes had flashed with regret for a split second before his trademark smirk had made its usual appearance and the whispers in Slytherin House had finally stopped.

Then the Yule Ball had taken place, and Krum had escorted Hermione.

Theo would never forget the dumbstruck look on Draco’s face when Hermione walked into the Ball on the arm of the World Famous Quidditch Star.

He’d looked like someone had hit him upside the head with a bludger.

It was the exact same look he’d had when Hermione had walked into the Ball at Primrose in that daring Slytherin green gown—except this time she ended up on the arm of Adrian Pucey.

And Theo had seen his friend disappear out to the balcony minutes before Adrian and Hermione went outside together.

Theo knew that whatever had happened out there—Draco had seen it, and he’d be incensed by it.

“You have quite a few Nargles swarming around you today, Theodore Nott.” Luna’s dreamy voice broke through his reverie.

“Nargles?”

“Yes.” She replied in that way of her’s, as they walked into Madam Malkin’s together.

Theo waited for the witch to explain, but she didn’t. The flighty blonde just skipped over towards a rack of witch’s robes and proceeded to pull a couple sets out and give them a once over before setting them back where they belonged.

She was a strange bird.

His eyes caught Adrian and Hermione, who were over by themselves in a corner—flirting shamelessly with each other. Adrian’s arm was wrapped around Hermione’s waist and she was staring up at him with a wide, happy smile.

Theo just shook his head and cleared his throat, getting the other wizard’s attention. Adrian just grinned, while Hermione rolled her eyes and Theo couldn’t help but feel like they were both testing his resolve and good manners.

He walked over to the Slytherin section, and pulled out a new cashmere vest with the House Crest on it and set it aside. He then grabbed a couple new ties and a tie pin and set those next to the sweater vest. He’d moved a bit further into the store when he heard the doorbell ding. Not bothering to look up, it was a few minutes later a voice cleared next to him.

“Theo.”

His head turned and he nodded at the other wizard. “Zabini. I thought you were with Malfoy?”

“Was. He will be here shortly. He had to stop at Gringotts first.”

Theo nodded absently and picked up a few more items, not noticing Blaise looking over his shoulder at Hermione—who was helping Adrian pick out a new set of Ministry Robes. They were smiling, laughing and touching each other.

“They seem awfully chummy?”

Theo’s blue eyes fell to where Blaise’s gaze was fixated and he sighed. “Do they?”

The Italian wizard just gave his friend a dubious sneer. “Really? Everyone has been talking about it. Pansy is furious, you know?”

Oh fuck, Theo grimaced inwardly—this wasn’t going to be good at all.

“What does Pansy have to do with anything?”

“So you don’t _know_.” Blaise’s self-satisfied smug grin make Theo want to hex the blighter.

“Obviously, mate—or I wouldn’t be asking.”

Blaise moved a bit closer and whispered under his breath...”Draco gave Pans the old heave ho, at Pucey’s ball. Told her to _shove off.”_

Theo groaned lowly—he hadn’t known about that.

“Why are you surprised?” Theo asked with disinterest. “Draco was never going to court Pansy officially, and we all knew it. The only one who didn’t was Pansy herself.” Theo then smirked, “How’s Daphne?”

Blaise rolled his eyes at the blatant change of subject. “She’s fine actually. Better than, if I’m being completely honest.”

“So have you officially made it official?” Theo quipped and Blaise just snorted, and shook his head.

“No, not yet.” He reached for a scarf and gave it a critical eye before placing it down. “But I’d imagine should things continue on as is—I will be making my intentions known by the end of the school year.”

“Well, good on you, mate.”

Theo grabbed his items and headed for the another area, not surprised when Blaise followed him. Luna was still flitting around the racks, grabbing things and disposing of them as if she wasn’t sure of her choices or just wasn’t interested.

Theo then realized that Hermione and Adrian were not where he’d left them.

Sighing, Theo shook his head—hoping that they weren’t doing anything untoward.

At that precise moment the bell at the front door rang, and Theo looked up to see Draco sauntering in. His eye caught the other wizard and Draco lifted his chin in greeting.

“Theo.”

“Hey, mate.”

“I just need to pick up my robes from Madam Malkin, I’ll be back in a sec.” Draco drawled and headed for the back of the store, his gaze landing on Lovegood with a frown.

When Draco made his way to the back of the store, he heard a soft giggle and when he turned his head to where the sound was coming from, he stopped dead in his tracks and couldn’t help the reflexive sneer that fell over his face.

In the back corner of the shoppe, Pucey was snogging Hermione Prewett.

Clearly his throat discreetly, he watched in veiled amusement as the two broke apart quickly. The blush on Hermione’s cheeks as she caught his eye was to be expected—as was the smug grin from his former Quidditch teammate.

“Draco.” Adrian nodded and Draco returned the gesture, not wanting to show how irritated he was.

“Sorry to intrude, but I just came back to get my robes for school.”

Draco’s gaze fell to Hermione’s briefly, but she refused to look his way—instead she was biting her lower lip and staring over his shoulder.

“Not a problem, mate.” Adrian replied with ease, as he tucked Hermione’s arm within his and made to escort her back into the main part of the shop.

Just before they disappeared, Draco drawled—“Adrian?”

His friend stopped and looked back over his shoulder at him. When Draco had his undivided attention, he tilted his head towards Hermione and said, “Not that it’s my business, but you might want to be a _bit more mindful of being out in public_. It’s not just you—that you need to concern yourself with.”

Adrian’s eyes widened, but he bowed his head at the rebuke—clearly chastened...before leading Hermione back to her cousin.

Hermione’s expression was understandably perplexed as her blue eyes stared at Draco in confusion. He just bowed politely and left them to get his purchases, not needing to say anything more.

His friend really should’ve known better than to be so indiscreet with Hermione’s reputation in public.


	25. Stranger Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ride to Hogwarts is filled with strange encounters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as Number One Fan winds down, I will start updating this a bit more frequently. Thank you to those who’ve left a review and I appreciate everyone’s patience. Happy New Year!

September first found Hermione at Kings Cross with her Grandmother and the Weasley’s. Even Adrian had come to see her off and promised her that he would write at least weekly. She had blushed when he’d reached for her hand and put a heated kiss on the back of her knuckles, winking at her and then watching with a huge smile as she got on the train and waved at him, as it took off from the train station.

Theo and a Harry had gone off to find a compartment, so Hermione found herself wandering around the train for a bit as a few of her fellow classmates nodded politely in greeting.

She returned the gestures, her mind elsewhere.

She had asked Adrian when he’d returned her to Fosgate Hall what Malfoy had meant by his comment in Madam Malkins, and he’d just shrugged and said that he’d forgotten himself and should’ve been a bit more discreet with the PDA.

Hermione had been a bit confused, but Theo had explained it in detail the next day and Hermione had been incensed at first by Malfoy’s high-handedness...but then after much contemplation, she’d realized that the wizard had just been trying to be considerate of her reputation.

She hadn’t known what to do with that piece of information, _so she’d ignored it._

Now that she was back on the Hogwarts Express and on her way to school for another year—Hermione knew fundamentally that things were going to be different this year. She was no longer a Muggleborn witch—at least not officially. She was now a Prewett—a member of the Sacred Twenty Eight. 

The thought made her want to retch, but she couldn’t deny to herself that a part of her was oddly relieved too.

It would be nice to have a year at school where she wasn’t being tormented for being herself.

When she walked through the second train compartment—her eyes caught on a flash of blonde in the third compartment on the right. Her head turned and noticed grey eyes looking at her. His expression was neutral...not closed off, but not welcoming either. 

Blaise Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle were in the compartment with him as was Daphne Greengrass.

The witch looked up and nodded at her, which she returned before bolting down the train compartment...desperate to find her brother and cousin.

Back in the Slytherin compartment, Daphne smirked at her blonde friend, who’s expression was thoughtful.

“Did you see that Adrian was with her family?”

Draco just sighed, but didn’t respond. 

He didn’t need to.

“Marcus told me that Adrian told him, that Hermione visited McKinnon Manor this past week. He wasn’t invited, but Theo was.”

Everyone’s eyebrows raised with interest at this piece of news.

“No one to my knowledge has ever set foot in McKinnon Manor.” Daphne said with a tinge of awe in her voice. “Did you know it was speculated once upon a time, that the McKinnon family hailed from Morgana Le Fay herself?”

Draco scoffed, but Blaise just chuckled at his friend’s look of disbelief.

“That’s just rumors Daph,” Draco insisted with a sneer, “besides...there have been _many_ rumors surrounding that family and _none_ of them were ever proven. And don’t you think if it were true? That the McKinnon family wouldn’t have been wiped out by the Dark Lord?”

What Draco failed to tell anyone other than his Mother who’d been there that day...was that he highly suspected that Dumbledore had convinced that McKinnon’s to relocate from their ancestral home—thereby allowing them to be killed for the greater good.

His Mother had agreed with his supposition, and they’d both decided to keep their own counsel about said events. His Father hadn’t been happy when he’d found out that they’d forgotten to mention certain facts from the will reading, but Draco didn’t need his Father to run interference for him.

Lucius had all the subtlety of a pit viper most days.

And he was just as venomous and treacherous too.

“Well, whatever the reason I think it’s fascinating. Do you think she might hold a ball there eventually?”

“Doubtful.” Blaise quipped with a grin. “I don’t think that Hermione Prewett is going to allow anyone she doesn’t implicitly trust access to her family Manor. Muriel may hold a gala or two at Fosgate Hall, but McKinnon Manor will be off limits. Shame though.”

Draco nodded absently, his gaze staring out the train window as they finally passed through London and began to make their way north.

“How’s Pansy?” Blaise asked flippantly, and watched his best mate stiffen at the question.

“Wouldn’t know, actually. Thankfully, she took the not so subtle hint and has set her sights on other prey.”

“Who?”

“Marcus Flint, I believe.”

Daphne giggled while Blaise just grimaced in disgust.

“He is Sacred Twenty Eight.” Crabbe piped in helpfully and Draco sighed again but nudged his mate in the shoulder.

“As if that makes it any less weird?”

Crabbe just grinned, while Goyle stuffed his mouth with the sweets he’d packed away for the long journey.

“I think they’re perfect for each other.” Daphne deadpanned, and Blaise snickered at how malevolent his witch was.

“Well, their mental acumen is comparable, if nothing else.” Draco responded evenly, but his lips quirked tellingly.

“Harsh, mate.”

“But _true_.”

“Hmm.” Blaise smiled as the trolley came to their door and he was quick to open it and pick up a few things for him and Daphne. Draco bought some ice mice and a cauldron cake while Crabbe and Goyle got one of everything.

“Here you go, love.”

Blaise handed Daphne her sugar quills and she beamed at him with a “_thank you”_ before conversation slowed as everyone enjoyed their treats. 

After a while Draco excused himself to stretch his legs and told his friends he’d be back in a bit.

Elsewhere, Hermione had found Theo and Harry in a back compartment in the third car. Ron wasn’t with them thankfully, as she’d seen him with Neville, Seamus and Dean in another compartment and they were all playing exploding snap. Luna had found them though, and she and Theo were looking in some odd colored book together.

“Hey.” She smiled as she walked into the compartment.

“There you are!” Harry breathed out in relief. “I was about to come and search for you.”

Hermione smiled at her silly brother. “I’m fine, Harry. Has the trolley been by yet?”

Everyone shook their heads in the negative, so Hermione took a seat next to Harry—who was sitting by the window.

“You and Adrian seem to be getting along rather well these days.” Harry bit out with a playful grin, and laughed when his sister smacked his arm in retaliation.

“Stop it, Harry!” Hermione blushed a bit but her smile was telling as she couldn’t deny she had grown rather fond of the older wizard this summer. “Adrian has been a welcome distraction this summer, but now that we are back at school, I don’t know what to expect.”

Theo raised his head and grinned. “The wizard is smitten, Hermione. I know you don’t know much about formal courtships and the like.”

“I _don’t_.” She admitted with a scowl. “You know what happened the other day at Madam Malkins, Theo. I’m still trying to process it all.”

“What happened?” Harry asked, intrigued.

Theo smirked at his cousin who rolled her eyes at him, but she spoke up anyway.

“Malfoy caught Adrian and I in the back snogging. He inferred that Adrian needed to be a bit more careful in regards to my reputation in public.”

At Harry’s incredulous look, Hermione giggled. “I know, I think I had that exact look on my own face. After the deplorable ways in which Malfoy has treated me the past five years, its hard to buy into the fact that he’s all of a sudden _worried_ about my reputation.”

Theo just chuckled. “I’m _not_.”

“What do you mean?” Harry demanded.

“Look, I know you both haven’t had many good experiences with Draco.”

“_None_.” Harry muttered and Theo just laughed harder, while Luna smiled too.

“He’s always been rather polite to me, if a bit standoffish.” Luna hummed out breezily—noticing the astonished looks being sent her way by everyone.

“Not in public, but privately he’s been rather kind. He helped me get a pair of my shoes back last year when one of my housemates tried to hide them in the castle. Took points away too, which I wasn’t too upset by, even if it was my own house.”

“Really?”

“Hmm, yes.” Luna nodded. “I’m not excusing Malfoy’s actions and the things he’s said to Hermione because they were rather unkind...but he’s always had a thin skin. He doesn’t take to taunts well, and has a tendency to react first in the worst way.”

Theo mimicked Luna’s expression. “She’s right. But for all his faults, he does tend to live his life by a rather strict set of rules. He and Pansy may have been casually seeing each other, but Draco would never compromise a witch’s integrity. Especially not a Pureblood. He may taunt and say mean things, but he’d never raise a hand to a witch. In fact, one of my older housemates back in third year did just that to a witch in our house and Draco took him to task right in front of the _entire_ common room. Hexed the offender and told him if he did it again—he’d make sure he was expelled.”

Hermione’s face paled and as she glanced at Harry, and his expression was horrified too.

Apparently there was more to Draco Malfoy than met the eye.

Just then the trolley stopped by and Harry grabbed some sweets for everyone. 

For a while they just sat and discussed the upcoming school year. Hermione had made prefect again, and Harry had too which had been a surprise. Ron had been livid but when Harry mentioned that now he’d have more time to get ready for Quidditch tryouts the red-head had seemed appeased. Malfoy was still a prefect, as was Parkinson. 

Head Girl was Cho Chang and Head Boy was Eddie Carmichael—also in Ravenclaw.

When the train got a bit closer to Hogwarts, Hermione grabbed her robes and went to get dressed while Luna left to check in with Ginny. Theo headed back to the Slytherin compartment so Harry could get his robes on and he left for the Head’s compartment at the front of the train.

When he got to the compartment, nearly everyone was there except for Parkinson, Malfoy and Mione.

Hermione was at that moment making her way towards the prefects meeting, when she heard several voices coming from up ahead. She immediately recognized Sally’s voice and she smiled—then scowled as she heard a couple wizard’s taunting the little witch.

“Look who we have here, Selwyn. It’s a little firstie! What’s you name, little girl?”

Sally didn’t like the look on either boy’s face, but she stood up straight and said in her bossiest voice, “Sally.”

“Sally!” The other voice scoffed. “That must be a Muggle name! Are you a _Muggle witch, _Sally?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you better let me through!”

“Or what?” The Selwyn boy mocked. “What are you gonna do—little ickle firstie _mudblood?”_

Hermione was about to step in a say something when a deep voice interrupted the taunting.

“_Just what is going on here?”_

Hermione immedately recognized that voice and she felt her legs stuck as she listened with bated breath—wondering just what Malfoy was going to do to his own housemates who were being hateful prats.

The other two boys chuckled and said arrogantly, “Just introducing ourselves to little Sally here.”

“I _see_,” Draco murmured and then Hermione heard a yelp and a crushing sound that sounded suspiciously like someone being pushed against something. “Let me get this straight, Selwyn? You were _openly_ taunting this first year and calling her a mudblood? _Did I hear that correctly?”_

“Yeah, _so? _It’s not as if you haven’t used the word yourself, Malfoy.”

Hermione heard Draco sigh, and she wished more than anything she could see his expression.

“Yes, regrettably but that ends today. Spread the word, Selwyn. If I hear anyone using that name in public, they will answer to _me_. You need to remember where you are and _your place. _Are you a Slytherin or a Gryffindor?”

Hermione bristled at that, but continued to listen as the two boys mumbled something she couldn’t hear.

Then she heard them walking away.

After a few seconds, her heart—which had been in her throat—started to calm as she heard Sally’s timid voice speak.

“Thank you, Mister.”

There was a beat of silence and then Malfoy’s voice spoke up and it was far kinder than Hermione thought he was capable.

“Ignore those dolts. What’s your name?”

“Sally.”

Draco chuffed and Hermione felt herself actually smiling.

“And do you have a last name, Miss Sally?”

“Oh! Um...yes. Sally Kelley.”

Draco stared down at the little Muggleborn witch, who looked shockingly like Hermione Granger had the first time he’d seen her on the Hogwarts Express six years ago.

He almost smiled at the similarities. 

The young girl’s voice was even haughty, like Granger’s had been.

“Do you have a name too?”

This time Draco did chuckle deeply and his eyes lit up with mirth.

“Draco Malfoy, but you might hear me being referred to by other names.”

“Like what?”

Draco winked and then said conspiratorially, “_Foul evil cockroach._”

Hermione couldn’t help it as she laughed out in shock and Draco looked up in surprise, his head stretching around the corner to see Hermione Prewett genuinely smiling at him.

It was _surreal_.

Sally it seemed, heard the guffaw too and her curly head followed his before she chimed out happily, “Hermione!”

The little witch rushed over and was instantly enveloped into a warm embrace by Hermione...who mouthed, ‘_thank you’_ over her head. 

Draco nodded and then turned around and left them alone.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” Sally said emotively. “What’s a mudblood?”

“It’s a very mean name that some people say because they don’t know any better. If anyone calls you that come tell me and I’ll deal with it personally. I’m a prefect for Gryffindor House and once you’re sorted, let whomever your House prefect know that we are friends...okay?”

“Maybe I’ll get sorted into your House?”

Hermione tapped the young witch’s nose and said “_Maybe_” with a bright smile.

“I have to go to the prefects meeting but I’ll see you in the Great Hall.”

“Okay.” Sally muttered before her face brightened a bit. “That Draco Malfoy seems nice.”

Hermione grimaced and hesitantly replied—not wishing to respond directly, “Just be mindful, alright?”

“Will do.” Sally nodded and watched the older witch move towards the front of the train. She went to turn around and saw a vaguely familiar blonde witch staring at her strangely.

“Hello, Sally. I’m Luna.”

“Hi, Luna.”

“Come sit with me.”

“Okay.”

Luna took Sally into her compartment where Ginny was talking with Faye Dunbar and Lavender Brown while elsewhere, Hermione entered the Head’s compartment noticing she was the last to arrive. She nodded politely at everyone and went to stand next to Harry.

“You okay?” He whispered and she just mouthed, ‘_later_’ as the Head’s handed out the prefect’s schedule and then sent them on their way.

When she looked up, she caught Malfoy’s gaze for a fleeting moment—his expression as always was inscrutable, but Parkinson just glared hatefully at her.

Hermione rolled her eyes, not in the mood to deal with Pansy’s histrionics today.

“Well...well...if it isn’t little Miss perfect!”

Hermione looked around in feigned confusion before her attention was focused on the Black-haired witch.

“I’m sorry, Parkinson...were you addressing me?”

Pansy just scoffed, but Malfoy cleared his voice in warning which the witch ignored.

“Obviously.”

“Oh dear, I’m _sorry_. I’m not used to being addressed by you in such a _thoughtful_ way. _Did you hit your head this morning_...you feeling alright? Perhaps Madam Pomfrey has a tonic for whatever is ailing you.”

Her voice had been so sickeningly sweet, that everyone stopped at stared.

Malfoy was trying his hardest not to smile.

“Piss off, Granger...”

Hermione sighed and shook her head. “Get over yourself, Parkinson. Whatever your issues are, go seek out some counseling for it. No one appreciates your vitriol, and I must say that someone of your breeding should be more concerned with the kind of image you portray.”

“That’s rich coming from you. You were raised by Muggles.”

“Yes I was, and proud of it. At least I learned how to be respectful, kind, thoughtful, considerate, intelligent and compassionate. _I don’t think anyone could use those superlatives to describe you.”_

Pansy went to lift her wand but Hermione just grinned and flexed her hand—freezing the witch in place. Everyone gasped as Hermione casually walked into the other witch’s space and said lowly so only she and Malfoy could hear her.

“Be very careful, Parkinson. I can turn you to ash with a flick of my wrist. What do you think might happen to you if you raise your wand at me again?”

With a snap of her fingers, Pansy crumpled to the ground and blue eyes met grey as she stared down Malfoy who just smirked at her in response.

_Impressive magic._

Harry opened the compartment door and followed his sister out into the walkway, ignoring the looks of awe on everyone’s face.

He was fairly certain word of this was going to be around the school by the end of dinner.

So much for a quiet year.


	26. A New Way of Thinking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Start Of Term Feast—both during and after opens a new way of thinking for many.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there! Now that #1 Fan is done I’m hoping to update this a bit more consistently. Hope you like this next installment.

When they’d reached the Great Hall—Harry and Hermione went straight to their normal spot at the Gryffindor table where Ron, Ginny were sitting with Neville, Dean and Seamus. Everyone was chatting happily and talking about their summer while Lavender, Faye and Ginny were gushing over the summer season and all the handsome wizards they’d been introduced to.

“You’d think that my sister would be more interested in Quidditch than boys.” Ron mumbled, his voice dripping with annoyance. Ginny just scowled at him and then proceeded to ignore him until the sorting started.

When Professor McGonagall led the first years into the Great Hall—Hermione caught Sally’s eye and smiled at her. The young girl waved excitedly, which caused Hermione to chuckle. When she looked across the Hall, Malfoy’s gaze was also on the young witch and his expression was almost nostalgic.

Then his eyes locked with her’s and he smirked and tilted his head towards Sally and mouthed, “_She’s you._”

Hermione’s expression registered confusion for a second and then when she got the inference she nodded, chuckled and rolled her eyes. 

She noticed Malfoy’s body shaking a bit like he was laughing to himself.

When her gaze caught a few of the other Slytherin’s, one in particular was glaring at her spitefully.

Leave it to Parkinson to be in a foul mood first day of school.

Hermione caught Theo’s gaze and he shook his head fondly at her, before he tilted his head in Pansy’s general direction and rolled his eyes in disgust.

She had to hide her giggles behind her hand as the sorting started.

It was a while before Sally’s name was called out.

“Sally Kelley.”

Hermione watched with anticipation as the young girl bounded up the steps and sat upon the stool, her body radiating excitement.

About a minute later the hat yelled out, ‘_Gryffindor_!’ 

And everyone in Gryffindor house started cheering for the little witch...the loudest being Hermione who was accosted by the young girl with a hug, before she sat with the rest of the first years.

When she glanced up again, Malfoy nodded and smirked as if he wasn’t surprised at all and when one of the boys sitting down from him murmured something, Hermione gasped in shock when Draco flicked his wand and the boy glared at him.

Then everyone around the kid started laughing as it became obvious that Malfoy had silenced him.

He then winked at her and went back to watching the sorting like it was no big deal.

_What the Fuck?!?_

“What was that all about?” Harry whispered into her ear, not missing the strange exchange between his sister and the ferret.

“I will tell you later, okay?”

“Sure. You alright?”

“Yes. Just a bit confused, I think.”

“Hmmm.” Harry glared at Malfoy, who just smirked back at him. Hermione nudged her brother and told him to ‘_stop it’_ under her breath.

Before Harry could respond, Dumbledore stood up to give his _Start of Term _speech.

“Welcome back to another year at Hogwarts. First a few announcements for students. As always the Forbidden Forest is forbidden to all students. In light of recent events, the Centaurs have sent a representative Firenze, who will be helping Hagrid in his duties as well as Professor Trelawny with her classes this year. We want to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor—well he’s not new to you, but he has graciously offered to teach the class this year. Severus Snape will be taking over for Delores Umbridge, who is now a resident of Azkaban.”

Several cheers went up in the Great Hall. Slytherin was cheering for their Head of House while the rest of the student body was cheering for the fact the the toad had been incarcerated.

“Yes, yes—so we find ourselves welcoming a new Potions Professor—or in this case welcoming back an old colleague from retirement. Professor Slughorn, former Potion’s Professor and Head of Slytherin House will be taking up his old post here at Hogwarts. Please give him a Hogwarts welcome.”

The students cheered for their new Potions teacher and Hermione was surprised that Professor Snape would choose to leave his favored post, but Percy Weasley had mentioned once back her first year that Snape had been actively trying to get the post for years now.

Based upon Harry’s grumbling, he didn’t seem too happy about it.

“Harry, look on the bright side.”

“Which is?”

“Well, Snape refused to allow you into NEWT potions because you got an E on your OWL, correct?”

Harry scowled and nodded, not needing to be reminded that his dream of being an Auror had crashed and burned when he’d received his OWL results.

“Maybe Professor Slughorn accepts NEWT students with an Exceeds Expectations? It could hurt to ask Professor McGonagall, right?”

Harry’s expression perked up at that thought as he smiled widely at his sister.

“You’re _brilliant_! Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Because you were too busy pouting and feeling sorry for yourself.”

Harry pushed his shoulder into her’s and quipped, “Bossy.”

“Prat.”

“You both need to get your priorities straight.” Ron hummed as the food appeared before them and he didn’t waste any time tucking into the feast.

“Why? Just because we’re not obsessed with only Quidditch, mate?”

Ron mumbled a response that was drowned out by the food in his mouth. Hermione scrunched her face in disgust and murmured, ‘_lost cause’_ under her breath which had Harry bowling over in laughter. 

Even Ginny grinned and nodded as she’d heard it too.

“What?” Ron mumbled as food fell from his lips and that was it...Hermione threw her head back and lost herself.

She didn’t notice everyone staring at her either.

“What’s so funny?” Ron groused out, while Hermione just grinned at her friend, before shaking her head at him.

“Ron, you really need to learn to chew with your mouth closed.”

“_Oh, not you too!”_

“Yes. _No talking while you’re eating_. It’s just the polite thing to do, okay?”

Ron just blushed and held his head down, mumbling under his breath while everyone around them seemed amused by his embarrassment.

“You should listen to your cousin, Weasley. She has good advice.” A voice from the same side as Hermione and sitting just a few seats down, piped in.

“Shove off, McLaggen. No one asked for your opinion.”

“Just stating facts. You still planning on trying out for Keeper this year?”

Ron glowered at the older Gryffindor who was a seventh year and nodded.

“Well, I hope you’re up for a bit of competition because I plan to try out myself. May the best wizard win!”

Harry just rolled his eyes and Ginny scoffed at the older boy, but Ron seemed a bit unsure—as his tendency to feel inadequate rearing its ugly head.

“Don’t listen to him, Ron!” Hermione whispered placatingly, “I’m sure you’ll do fine at tryouts. When is it? I’ll come cheer you on!”

“Really?” Ron grinned at this and Hermione was glad to see his confidence return a bit. “That’d be great, Mione! Uhm...when are tryouts, Harry?”

“Two Saturdays from now—at least I’m hoping to book the pitch for that day. Madam Hooch should have the sign up sheet posted sometime tomorrow by her office.”

“Brilliant. I’ll get myself ready then. Maybe if I make the team I can talk Da into buying me a new Nimbus broom. Ginny got one this summer.”

“Really?” Harry glanced over at the red-headed witch and she nodded.

“Yeah, Da was pretty chuffed when he got that inheritance. I got a broom, Ron got new robes for school.”

“Seems like a fair trade off.” Seamus grinned and Ron just glared at his friend telling him to ‘_piss off.’_

Hermione’s reprimand of ‘_Ronald!’ _had the wizard blushing and mumbling an apology.

Once the feast was done, Harry and Hermione went to grab their firstie’s to take them to the Gryffindor common room.

Elsewhere Draco and Pansy were leading their first years to the dungeons and Pansy was in rare form.

“Selwyn told me what happened on the train, Draco. Are you really going to go after your own House for putting the _filth_ in their proper place?”

Draco didn’t immediately respond but waited until they were in the common room and when the door opened, he inwardly smirked at all his housemates waiting for him. He noticed Blaise and Theo out of the corner of his eye, and politely nodded to them both.

“I see word travels fast. This is good, as I have something to say.”

“Why should we listen to you, Malfoy? You’ve become a _mudblood lover_ now?”

Draco whipped out his wand and faster than a blink of an eye he had Avery strung up against the wall with a well placed incarcerous and silenced for good measure.

“Anyone else want to interrupt me while I’m speaking?”

He twirled his wand menacingly and stared down his Housemates...who all were looking back at him with awe, fear and anger.

“The Dark Lord is _dead_. Whatever you choose to believe _privately_ is your choice, but publicly that’s a different issue. Who are we? Does anyone wish to give it a go?”

The room was quiet until a young female voice spoke up.

Astoria Greengrass.

“We are Slytherin’s. Purebloods. Well, most of us.”

“Okay.” Draco nodded looking over to a few in his house who were half-bloods.

“And those that aren’t...are we loyal or not?”

Everyone nodded as it was the one truth of Slytherin House—_they were loyal to each other._

“I had a frank conversation with my parents this summer, and they shared some harsh truths that I didn’t want to acknowledge but that I needed to hear. For the past five years, I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time bullying someone whom I thought was a Muggleborn, and it turned out not only was _she not one...but she is a Sorceress._ But the larger issue at play is we have a _choice_—now that the Dark Lord is gone—in how we wish for our great house to be viewed by the rest of the school. Do we want to be seen as bullies forever? Do we really need to assert our superiority by being hateful to others? Isn’t our place _assured_ in our world by reason of who we are? I don’t want to hear that word anymore and definitely not outside this common room. If you say it, I’m going to take points and if you bully or hurt some unsuspecting Muggleborn—I’m going to make you regret it. Believe what you want in private, but in public we have a new image we need to maintain.”

Draco waited to see who would speak up and he wasn’t disappointed when Theo decided to do so.

“Draco’s _right_.” Theo admitted with a sigh. “Whether we disagree with Dumbledore’s ideology or the Ministry...the truth of the matter is that Muggleborns are always going to have a place in our society. Now you may hiss and groan all you want (his eyes landed on a group of fourth and fifth year’s) but the truth is each one of us here—by reason of our births—will find it far easier to find a place within our society—jobs, careers and so forth. Muggleborns and even half-bloods will find it more difficult because of whom they are and you might think it’s fair—but there are just as many outside this common room—who don’t. You don’t need to be their friends, if that’s too much for you to bear—but we do need to try and make Slytherin respected in this school again. The other houses **hate** us and as much as we act like we don’t care—many of us secretly do. Some of us even have secret friendships outside of this common room with others in different houses, but we need to stop giving the other houses reasons to hate us, blame us when something goes wrong and in general ignore us because we are Slytherin’s.”

“I noticed you’re all chummy with your new cousin now, Theodore.” Pansy quipped nastily. “So it’s easy for you to comment when you’re her new best friend.”

Theo just chuckled. “It’s a new day, Pansy and my cousin could end anyone of us with a snap of her fingers. I personally don’t intend to do anything to invoke her wrath but that’s not the pressing issue here, and not the one Draco is trying to drill into your thick skulls. We need to do better and stop giving the others in this school a reason to despise us. We are better than that..._aren’t we?”_

The generalized murmurs within the common room were to be expected and some of his classmates nodded in agreement but there were a few—Pansy included—who looked as if they weren’t going to comply at all.

Theo glanced at Draco and shook his head.

“I’ve spoken with my parents and my Father, as Head of the Board of Governor’s—agrees that certain things need to change but we can’t make those changes if we are consistently seen as the bad guys.”

“What do you mean, Draco?”

This was from Goyle.

“Muggle studies as we all know, and from what I’ve heard the Muggleborns complain about—is _woefully_ outdated. Professor Burbage is a Pureblood teaching a Muggle class. There is no Magical Studies equivalent for Muggleborns in this school—does anyone wonder why that is?”

“Because our traditions are all held tightly within our own families.” Daphne offered and Draco nodded.

“True, but many of them aren’t. How we dress for instance, how we deal with magical creatures, etiquette, social hierarchy. All these things could be taught here at Hogwarts, but it’s not. Again..._why is that?”_

It was a few moments before anyone spoke up but it was Millicent who did at last.

“Dumbledore is prejudiced against us because he knows we hate Muggleborns and don’t want them here. He’s afraid if he allows a class that teaches our traditions, that it’s going to alienate Muggleborns even more and give us Purebloods more power.”

Draco smirked. “Do we need more power, Millicent?”

The beefy girl just chuckled. “Power is never a bad thing to have, Draco.”

“No, but as we saw with the Dark Lord—fear at the heart of ones power doesn’t inspire true loyalty, which is what is at the heart of being a Slytherin. It only inspires more fear. So, we need to try and inspire that loyalty outside of our house without the fear. And if we do that?”

“We have power.” Crabbe grinned and Draco bowed his head at his friend.

“You may never know who might seek to do you a favor and who you might do a favor for in return. Part of our motto is self-preservation but it is also cunning and loyalty. All I’m asking for is your loyalty to try something different. A new way of acting—of _being_...and if by the end of next year we don’t see a change in how we are perceived within these walls, then when I’m no longer here, you can decide if you want to go back to being a group of pedantic bullies. But if this _works_—“

Draco lifted an eyebrow and stared down each of his classmates and watched as they all nodded in sudden understanding.

Oh, there would be a few hold-outs but if this worked?

Draco smirked inwardly at what a bunch of sheep his housemates really were, but that wasn’t a bad thing. 

If he really hoped to make the changes he wanted here at Hogwarts—he needed to get his classmates on board.


	27. Feeling Off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione’s magic starts to feel unsettled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone. New chapter is here and I hope you like it. Happy New Year!

Walking through the castle and up to the seventh floor, Hermione and Harry watched with amused smiles at the first year Gryffindor’s _oohing_ and _aahing_ over everything in their path. It was easy to pick out the Muggleborn students as their eager faces and awed words belied their limited knowledge about all things Magical.

Hermione remembered her similar reactions six years ago.

It was hard for her to acknowledge how much had changed in her world, even if a part of her was grateful for it. Both she and Harry had grown up with no knowledge of magic, no connections to this world and yet somehow magic had found a way for them to find each other again, after all they’d lost as babes.

While she’d never believed much in the ways of fate, divination and prophecy—the truth of the matter was—there were times when she’d actually wondered if there wasn’t some truth to those disciplines.

At least more than she’d given it credit being.

Once they’d reached the Gryffindor common room, Harry gave his speech on what to expect, where the dormitories were and they both wished the firstie’s a good evening. Sally came up and hugged Hermione again and she smiled and told the young witch she was glad that they were Housemates. When Hermione introduced Sally to Harry, her brother had smiled—reiterated Hermione’s words practically verbatim and watched in amusement as the little witch headed upstairs.

When the room was cleared, Harry grabbed her and led her to their favorite spot in front of the fireplace.

“She looks almost exactly like you did, first year.”

Hermione chuckled and nodded, before her expression took on a more contemplative quality. Harry, who never missed much, asked her what was wrong.

“Nothing...at least I don’t think so?”

“I noticed Malfoy at dinner. What was up with that?”

Hermione turned sideways on the couch to face her brother and sighed. “It was strange actually. On the train, I overhead Sally being harassed by two Slytherin students. I only heard the name Selwyn though. He called Sally a mudblood.”

Harry’s expression darkened ominously as he ground out, “And this has to do with Malfoy, how?”

“That was the _weird_ part. I was around the corridor, so they didn’t see me but Malfoy overheard Selwyn say that word and then I heard what sounded like Malfoy pushing Selwyn against the compartment wall. He told the younger wizard not to use that slur again, and to spread the word. Then I heard Malfoy talking to Sally, and his voice was kind. It was the _oddest_ thing.”

Harry’s expression went from angry to apoplectic in the space of a minute.

“Malfoy? Draco _Pureblood_ Malfoy told another Slytherin not to use **that** word? I’m sorry, did I just wander into the Twilight Zone?”

Hermione laughed and nodded emphatically. “When Selwyn called him out on his hypocrisy, Malfoy even admitted he’d used that word regrettably but it ended now. At the sorting, he watched Sally almost fondly and then mouthed the words...’_she’s_ _you_’ to me. He looked almost sad.”

Harry just sat back dumbstruck. 

Never in a million years did he think that Draco sodding Malfoy would ever stick up for a Muggleborn.

“He’s up to something.”

Hermione gave her brother a dubious look.

“Why do you always think Malfoy is up to something?”

“Because the git usually is, and it’s never good.”

Hermione shook her head in exasperation. “Harry, whilst I don’t exactly trust Malfoy? I can’t see how this benefits him in the least. You know how hateful most Slytherin’s are in general. They openly taunt those they see as ‘_lesser_.’ I don’t imagine Malfoy’s actions are going to go over well in his House.”

“Don’t tell me you’re feeling worried about him.”

This caused Hermione to guffaw loudly, and Harry just smirked at how amused his sister looked.

“Merlin, No! He’s an insufferable prat, but I don’t hate him. I don’t trust him either. But Voldemort is gone Harry, and that might change a few things and I’m going to attempt to keep an open mind. After what Adrian shared with me over the summer, I’m not going to jump to conclusions anymore—_especially_ about Malfoy.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yes. Please try to leave him be, this year. I know you two have a contentious history too—but I just want to have a normal year for once.”

Harry just chuckled at his sister’s naïveté. “Hermione, I hate to burst your bubble but you’re a Sorceress. _Normal isn’t in the cards.”_

She stuck her tongue out at him playfully and watched as Harry grinned and blew her a kiss. He then stood up and did kiss the top of her head in parting.

“I’m heading up. Go to bed, Sister mine—and I will see you in the morning.”

“Fine.”

Hermione watched Harry go and she stared back into the fire for a bit. She could feel her magic humming along her skin. Holding her hand out, she watched as the flames erupted from her hand and licked like a lovers caress along her skin. She sighed and pulled back her powers, feeling a bit out of sorts.

Theo had warned her that her magic would start feeling a bit different the further she got away from her initial transformation and she hadn’t really used a lot of magic this summer. Standing up, she opened the common room door and disillusioned herself before making her way towards the Astronomy Tower.

Once she reached the steps, she silently made her way up to the top and out onto the parapet. The stars were out and she moved over to the railing to stare up into the night sky.

She had done a bit of mediation over the summer to try and center herself—focusing her magic and it had helped somewhat. The strange thing was, she wasn’t scared of heights anymore. Because of her telekinetic abilities, she couldn’t fall easily and she could walk out into the air as if it was nothing more than walking along the street.

Climbing over the barrier, she held her hands behind her—gripping the iron railing before taking a deep breath and walking out into the open air. She moved effortlessly, closing her eyes and feeling the wind move around her. She could smell a myriad of fragrances on the wind—as well as the scents from the water below. After a bit she opened her mind and called out for Theo.

A few moments later, she heard him respond.

“Hermione,” the voice was amused, “what are you doing?”

“I’m up at the Astronomy Tower.”

“Okay...that doesn’t answer my question though.”

“My magic feels a bit off. So I’m taking a walk.”

There was silence for a few moments and then she heard a sigh. 

“Please don’t tell me your hundreds of feet up in the air walking around?”

“And if I was?”

Again more silence before Theo’s voice spoke up and he sounded exasperated.

“I’ll be there in a few.”

“M’kay.”

Down in the sixth year Slytherin common room, Draco watched Theo as he fell into some kind of trance. When he finally opened his eyes, his expression looked both amused and exasperated.

Then he stood and put on his jumper, grabbed his wand and made to move out of their dormitory.

Checking the time—Draco noticed it was nearing curfew.

“Where you going, Theo?”

The Nott Heir just shrugged. “Gotta do something. I’ll be back soon.”

“It’s almost curfew, mate.”

“I know, but this can’t wait.”

Draco caught Blaise’s eye and the Italian just smirked knowingly, mouthing “_Prewett_” and Draco had to agree.

“Is everything okay?”

Theo sighed and shrugged again. “Dunno. I gotta go. If I’m not back at curfew, keep a lookout.”

Draco just nodded and watched as the other wizard left their common room looking a bit unsure. When Theo was gone, Blaise spoke up.

“What do you think that was about?”

“I don’t know, but did you notice he was almost in a trance for a few minutes?”

Blaise nodded. “Yeah, weird.”

“Maybe.” Draco’s curiosity was peaked and he desperately wanted to follow, but figured he might not be welcome to do so.

He’d let it go for now.

Theo discreetly left the common room and went to cast a disillusionment charm when a deep voice stopped him cold.

“Mr. _Nott_,” the baritone of their new Defense Professor caused Theo to inwardly groan. “It is almost curfew. Shouldn’t you be heading back inside the common room?”

Theo turned to face his Head of House and sighed. “Normally I would, but something has come to my attention.”

“And that would _be?”_

Theo just rubbed his hand over the back of his neck and knew if he didn’t give Snape the truth—his Head of House would escort him right back to where he didn’t want to be.

“Hermione is up at the Astronomy Tower. She let me know her magic is feeling a bit _off_.”

Snape lifted an eyebrow at this before he replied, “And just how would Miss Prewett advise you of such a thing?”

“She’s able to talk to me...telepathically.”

“_Excuse me?_”

By the tone of Snape’s voice it was clear he didn’t believe him so Theo shared what had transpired over the summer and Snape’s expression became thoughtful before he sighed in defeat.

“Come along, Mr. Nott. If Miss Prewett trusts you enough to seek out your counsel than perhaps it might be advisable for me to escort you there.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Snape didn’t respond—he just turned, robes billowing and led Theodore to the place he needed to be.

Hermione at that moment was sitting down in the air, legs crossed Indian style as she breathed in and out deeply. She could feel her magic as it swirled around her like an aura of flame and heat. It was comforting but also moody. She could feel its emotions as is edged around her consciousness—almost as if it was confused, agitated.

_Unsettled_.

As she continued breathing in and out, she didn’t notice her aura expanding slightly nor the flames that were circling and hovering over her skin and hair as she rotated in the air, but Theo did—as did Professor Snape, who just stared at the witch and breathed out, “_Fascinating_.”

Theo nodded and then whispered, “She showed me a bit of this over the summer, but it was a lot to process even then.”

Snape hummed, as he watched the mesmerizing scene unfolding in front of him.

“She is trying to learn to control it. Which means it’s becoming unstable. You did mention to her why that might be, yes?”

“I did. She was fairly good this summer though. You don’t think it’s because she’s away from Adrian, do you? I mean...they’ve been seeing each other and this didn’t seem to be an issue all summer.”

Snape tilted his head thoughtfully before he asked. “When she showed this to you previously, was there an _impetus_...a reason why?”

Theo thought back and chuckled. “Yes. Hermione had just gotten Narcissa Malfoy’s invitation to her garden party and she was livid. She didn’t want to be anywhere near Draco, and was rather emphatic in her disdain of all things Malfoy.”

This caused Snape’s lips to quirk even as he considered all the possibilities. Shaking his head after a bit Snape had to wonder just how powerful Miss Prewett was. He hadn’t seen her initial transformation, but others had. Those people were forbidden to speak of it and now he understood a bit better why that was.

“Can you speak with her? Get her to come inside?”

Theo sighed and then closed his eyes...trying to reach his mind out to his cousin, who seemed to be content in her own little world. When her eyes finally did open, they were filled with fire and she smiled.

“Come on, Princess,” he pleaded silently, “time to come inside before Professor Snape docks us both points for being out of bed after curfew.”

Theo chuckled when he heard her grumbling in his mind and then grinned when he saw Hermione’s aura expand slightly in annoyance.

He could feel her irritation.

“Fine.” She grumbled grumpily into his mind. “You’re both no fun.”

Theo choked out a laugh, which caused Snape to give him a questioning look. 

He just shrugged and said saucily, “Apparently, we are no fun.”

“Indeed.” Snape deadpanned, and then stood back in shock as Miss Prewett was suddenly right next to them both. He glanced out over the parapet and then back at the young witch with a look of incredulity.

“Impressive.”

“I suppose the right answer is to say, ‘_thank you?_’ But I’m just grateful that you allowed Theo to come up here.”

“It is after curfew, Miss Prewett, and while I’d hope this doesn’t become a common occurrence, perhaps it might be wise of you to discuss this with your own Head of House. I would imagine there will come times that you may need to keep yourself grounded and I’d rather not have the whole of the castle come crumbling down around me should you have a fit of pique or a complete loss of control.”

Theo laughed while Hermione pouted. “I’m getting better. Really. I’m just trying to keep up on the meditation I did over the summer.”

“Perhaps Occlumency lessons might be in order?”

“Are you offering, Sir?”

“_Obviously_.”

Both Hermione and Theo smiled and the young witch bowed her head in gratitude. “Then I will take you up on your generous offer, Professor. I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt.”

“No, it most definitely would not. Now let’s return you both to your respective dormitories. I expect you will be discussing this with Professor McGonagall on the morrow?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The trio remained silent until they got to the Gryffindor common room and Hermione turned to thank her Professor. Snape just nodded and watched the witch move into the Gryffindor Tower.

As he walked with the Nott Heir towards Slytherin, Snape felt compelled to speak.

“Mr. Nott, as I am usually loathe to get involved in the personal lives of my students yet I find myself in an unusual position. I would ask that you come to me directly in the future should Miss Prewett find herself in need. I can contact her Grandmother accordingly.”

“You don’t think Professor McGonagall would do so?”

“Not without advising the Headmaster first, and I am unsure that Muriel Prewett would be amenable to such interference from Dumbledore at this junction.”

Theo smirked and nodded. “I understand, Sir.”

“Of that I have little doubt. Inside with you, Mr. Nott.”

“Thank you, Sir.”

Snape watched his student enter the dungeons and then made his way back to his office.

He was in need of a stiff shot of firewhiskey.

As Theo walked into the dormitory, he was unsurprised to find his dorm mate’s awake and awaiting his return.

“Everything okay?” Blaise asked and Theo nodded.

“It’s fine.”

“Prewett?”

Theo’s gaze hardened at his mate and felt his hackles go up before he looked over at Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle who were all staring at him with equal expressions of curiosity.

He just nodded and left it at that. He wasn’t going to discuss this with his housemates.

It wasn’t any of their concern.


	28. Early Worm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quidditch always brings out the worst in everyone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Thank you to those who’ve read, reviewed and left some love!!!

Hermione slept reasonably well that night and she didn’t dream at all, which was good. No lingering nightmares about the Department of Mysteries and her duel with Dolohov was never a bad thing.

She got up and got dressed, ignoring the curious stares of her roommates. It seemed all Lavender was interested in was knowing was whether or not she and Adrian were officially courting.

Such utter nonsense.

She grabbed her book bag and headed out of her room, making her way down to the common room to find Harry and Ron already waiting for her.

“You’re both up early.”

“Yeah, we’re heading to Madam Hooch’s office to sign up for the Quidditch Pitch, and then heading to breakfast after. Why don’t you come with us?”

“Sure.”

The trio left the Gryffindor common room in high spirits, as they headed for the fifth floor corridor where many of the Professor’s offices were located.

When they got there, Harry growled as he saw Malfoy and Zabini already filling in their time slots on the Quidditch Pitch reservation roster.

“Malfoy.”

“Potter.” The blonde wizard smirked slightly. “Just signing up my team for tryouts and practices for term.”

Harry moved over and groaned inwardly. 

Leave it to Malfoy to take the best times.

“You took every Saturday morning, Malfoy. That’s hardly fair.”

Draco didn’t comment immediately as he noticed Weasley getting ready to say something, while Prewett just stood back and observed. 

Her expression closed off.

“I was here first, Potter. Early worm and all that.”

“_Worm is right_.” Ron grumbled angrily. “Snake-like worm.”

“Really? We’re going to dissolve into name calling not even a day into the new term? Nice.” Malfoy sneered out haughtily. “Although I hardly think I should apologize for getting here early. Tell me, Potter? If you had—wouldn’t you have taken the prime slots for Gryffindor?”

Harry glowered, but couldn’t dispute that—as he would have done just that.

If only to piss Malfoy off.

When he gazed back at his sister, her lifted eyebrow told Harry that Hermione knew it too.

“_Want me to change the roster?”_ She asked him silently and his own lips quirked, as he snorted and shook his head.

Their silent exchange wasn’t missed by clever grey eyes.

Draco then waggled his finger at Prewett. “No changing the roster, Prewett. Even though Madam Hooch has a charm that prevents tampering, something tells me you wouldn’t be deterred by such enchantments.”

Hermione’s face fell into stunned disbelief, while Harry chuckled deeply.

“That’s a rude thing to insinuate, Malfoy.” She bit back, half-heartedly.

“Yet _true_.” He bantered back easily. “There are still plenty of good slots available, Potter. Perhaps next term you might try and sleep in the hallway to beat me here.”

Harry just rolled his eyes and didn’t take the bait as he added his name to the roster on his second choice dates and times. When he was done, he moved back over to his sister...her expression questioning.

“It’s fine, Sis. Let’s go get breakfast.”

She nodded, not noticing the surprised looks on Malfoy and Zabini’s faces at Harry’s moniker for her.

Draco watched the trio walk away and when they were gone, he side-eyed his best mate and said, “She’s _telepathic_. I had wondered last night when I saw Theo go into that trance, but I saw the exact same look on Potter’s face just now.”

Blaise hissed in surprise. “That’s _unprecedented_. A natural legilimens can read others thoughts but to be able to speak into someone else’s mind without the aid of a spell?”

Draco nodded. “It makes me wonder how developed it is?”

“You’re wondering if she can read our thoughts?”

“Yes.” Draco admitted uneasily. “I’m fairly trained in Occlumency from my mother and godfather, but not a lot of witches and wizards have the aptitude for mind Magic’s.”

Blaise stared at the wall and thought about this for a moment. “What other powers do you think she has?”

“I don’t know, but based on last night—Theo does.”

“And he isn’t going to betray her trust.”

“No, he isn’t. He sees her as family and we both know Theo well enough to know how he feels about family.”

The two wizards started walking towards the Great Hall as they silently considered this new information.

“Do you think Adrian?”

Draco shook his head. “I tend to think not, but I can’t say for sure. If he is...then being away from him is going to make her magic become more unstable over time.”

“Hence why Theo left last night?”

Draco smirked as he had considered that possibility too.

“She turns seventeen this month, mate.” Blaise offered and Draco hummed in acknowledgement.

“And yet she manifested her powers months ago. My Mother speculated that something must’ve triggered it, and my Father wasn’t privy to what that might’ve been.”

“Do you think she was cursed by one of the Dark Lord’s followers? Your Aunt Bellatrix?”

Draco thought about this seriously.

That would make sense.

If Hermione Prewett has been cursed...to the point of death she definitely would’ve manifested her powers to save herself. 

Fuck. 

She was a _Phoenix_ elemental...had she literally died and been reborn from the ashes of her fate? 

Did the glamour spell break at the moment of her death?

** _Fuck!_ **

Blaise noticed Draco paling and he grabbed his arm to get his attention.

“What is it, mate?”

Draco’s head whipped to his friend and Blaise could see the raw emotion behind the grey eyes.

“I need to go send my Father an owl. Save me something if I don’t get back in time for breakfast?”

Blaise nodded and watched his best mate saunter away with a worried gaze. Whatever had caused Draco to react in such a way must’ve been bad.

_Really bad._

Draco hurried to the owlry, and when he got there he wrote a missive to his father explaining his thoughts and suppositions about what he’d learned. He knew his father well enough to know that if there was a way to confirm what had happened to Hermione—he would do his best to do so.

It also made Draco wonder about other things too.

If Hermione Prewett turned seventeen this month and Adrian was her bonded...her powers would manifest again and she would bond with him. If that happened, then Draco would know for certain he didn’t have a chance in Salazar with her.

_But if she didn’t?_

Then it opened up many interesting possibilities.

Her bonded was not yet of age, which would eliminate many potential suitors.

He didn’t turn seventeen for almost another year and that was a long time for a Sorceress to go without her chosen mate.

But if her parents were allowing the magic to choose for her, then they either knew who that mate was...maybe through the Prophecy? Or they didn’t have enough information at that time to make that choice for her.

Either way, it was concerning.

As Draco watched the letter to his Father fly away, he sighed in resignation.

There was little chance he would be her chosen mate. 

A year was a long time to wait and he’d never heard of a Sorceress or Sorcerer going that long without their chosen one.

But then again, he’d never read any history that had ever indicated that there had been a Phoenix elemental before.

The situation was unprecedented.

All he could do was wait and see if his Father agreed with his speculations while continue doing what he could to show Hermione Prewett he wasn’t the same hateful wizard she’d only known him as being.


	29. Correspondence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco’s letter is received and he receives an answer in turn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit short the next one is much longer and a bit of fun too...thanks for those lovely reviews and kudos!

There was a light tapping at his study window causing Lucius to look up expectantly and then in surprise when he saw his Son’s owl waiting patiently to drop off its letter.

Lucius let the bird in and took the scroll, and then sat down at his desk while Draco’s owl ate a treat from the perch by the window—clearly expecting a response of some kind.

_ **Dear Father,** _

_ **I am sorry to bother you but something has come to my attention and I find myself in need of your advice.** _

_ **Last evening Theo left our common room after curfew and didn’t return for some time. He admitted that it had something to do with Hermione Prewett, but didn’t offer any details.** _

_ **This morning I ran into Miss Prewett and Potter at Madam Hooch’s office. I witnessed Potter going into some kind of trance and I’d noticed Theo doing the same thing the night prior, before he left the common room in a hurry.** _

_ **I’ve come to the conclusion that Miss Prewett is a telepath. I believe that somehow, she is able to communicate mentally without the need of a spell. She has been wandless since the Ministry battle and appears to be developing powers unheard of since perhaps the time of Merlin and Morgana.** _

_ **Theo seemed worried last night and if I had to speculate as to the why—I tend to believe her magic is becoming unstable. She turns seventeen in three weeks and I don’t have to tell you what that could mean.** _

_ **I believe the Pucey’s know this too.** _

_ **You’d mentioned you weren’t privy to the circumstances surrounding her powers manifesting and it has left me wondering if she was somehow cursed and then died...allowing her glamour to be broken and her powers manifesting. If her glamours didn’t break at the moment of death...that would be simply unheard of. And if I’m right....I’m thinking her glamours dropped when her powers manifested in full sometime after, leading me to believe she has much more power and control over her magic than even Merlin himself.** _

_ **Her parents are letting the magic choose for her. They either knew who her potential bonded was via a Prophecy, or they simply didn’t have enough information to stipulate a betrothal in their wills.** _

_ **I tend to think it is the former.** _

_ **And if I’m right then Dumbledore knows who that person is.** _

_ **And I think we both can guess why he let you retain that information and why he let you go.** _

_ **Please confer. I feel as if I’m losing my mind. This is all I’ve been able to think about for months and I can’t help but wonder if this is wishful thinking on my part or not.** _

_ **Your Son,  
Draco** _

Lucius read the letter several more times and at the last pass, he smiled widely.

_His son was very clever._

Everything made so much more sense now.

_This was why Dumbledore had let him go_. The old coot knew whom the Prewett Heiress mate was and since he couldn’t change fate, he bound the Head of Miss Prewett’s mate’s House into an unbreakable bond to protect the witch. To put her first and make sure she wasn’t to come to any harm.

_Ingenious_.

If he had been sent to Azkaban with Draco being underage—it would have caused many issues—the least of which was that his son wouldn’t have been able to make any kind of complete vow or magical bond and House Malfoy would’ve been left vulnerable. Draco’s magic not being fully developed yet, and the Malfoy House Magic left compromised, would have had serious repercussions for the stability of Miss Prewett’s magic. 

She may have attempted to manifest early—only to force an incomplete bond.

She would’ve been susceptible to bond sickness if her powers had become unstable to the degree that her magical core would’ve been affected...as would have Draco’s. His son would in all likelihood, have perished due to the inequality of such a bond forming, before his magic was ready to accept it.

Lucius shuddered to think of what the consequences of such a travesty might’ve been.

He stared at the parchment for an interminable amount of time so he didn’t notice his wife coming into his study.

“Luc?”

Silver eyes met his wife’s blue-grey as he swallowed and silently handed her the letter from their son. He watched closely as she read the missive, her features a stoic mask until she lifted her eyes and caught his again.

There was understanding there. A tinge of smugness too, but mostly relief.

“This is why he spared you?”

Lucius nodded. “I believe so.”

“We can’t tell anyone, Luc. Draco needs to keep this to himself. If this is true, and any of the other families get a whiff of this? They could try and have our son killed.”

Lucius face paled, as that thought hadn’t even registered with him.

He pulled out a piece of parchment and sent off a quick note to his son, and then he took the letter from his wife and threw it into the fireplace and cast an incendio.

His clever wife was right. 

There was no way anyone could suspect the truth.

He would have to make some kind of talisman for his son. 

Something to protect him from harm.

Back at Hogwarts Draco waited for his Father’s owl as he sat at the Slytherin table and picked at his food. Both Theo and Blaise were giving him looks of concern but Draco couldn’t help it. He needed to know if what he was thinking had merit and something told him to keep this to himself.

He wasn’t stupid. 

He knew what might happen to him if anyone suspected the truth.

It was a few minutes later that the Hall was besieged by owls and his gaze leveled on the Gryffindor table as he noticed Pucey’s owl dropping off a letter for Prewett. He shook his head and took a bite of his porridge...not needing to see her happy smile or know how disappointed she would be if she knew that her likely bonded was him.

As he was finishing up, his owl returned and dropped off a small scroll. Taking it, he stood and grabbed his book bag telling Blaise and Theo he’d see them both in potions.

When he found a private spot, Draco cast a _notice me not _charm and a silencing spell before opening his Father’s letter.

Once again, it was brief and to the point.

_ **My Son,** _

_ **Again you impress me with your astute deductions.** _

_ **Keep this to yourself.** _

_ **I will be sending you a gift shortly for your protection.** _

_ **Your Father** _

Draco took the note and cast an incendio, burning the letter to ash.

He needed to talk to his godfather and get working on perfecting his Occlumency.

As he made his way to potions, Draco couldn’t help but wonder how Pucey would take it when he realized that Hermione Prewett wasn’t meant to be his.

Draco couldn’t help but think his friend wouldn’t be taking it well at all.

He knew he wouldn’t, if it had been him.


	30. Draught of Living Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First day in potions goes a bit differently than expected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I borrowed the scene from HBP and made a few adjustments. I don’t own anything. JKR owns everything! Thanks for the love for this story!

Draco got to potions just before the bell rang where he noticed Potter sitting with Prewett and Theo.

How did Potter get into NEWT level potions?

Taking the seat next to Blaise and across from Pansy, Draco nodded to his mate and set his book bag on the ground near his seat.

Then the door opened and out walked a rotund man with a beaming smile upon his face.

“Welcome to NEWT Potions. I would like all of you to gather around the front of the classroom as we have a special demonstration for you today.”

Everyone made a semi-circle around several cauldrons that were simmering and one vial that looked to be no bigger than a large gobstone with some kind of liquid inside.

“Now, I have brewed a few special potions for your perusal today. Can anyone tell me what these might be?”

Hermione raised her hand, and Slughorn beamed at her, while Theo and Potter chuckled.

Pansy just scoffed and rolled her eyes.

Draco watched Hermione walk over and gently sniff the first cauldron and he noticed her observe the contents closely before she spoke.

“That one is veritaserum. It’s a truth telling serum. And that one is Polyjuice Potion. It allows the drinker to temporarily turn into someone else for no more than an hour.” She moved to the last cauldron and grimaced. “This one is terribly tricky to make. It’s Amortentia...the most powerful love potion in the world.” Draco watched her swallow as she looked back hesitantly at their Professor. “It’s rumored to smell differently to each person according to what attracts them.” She glanced back at the cauldron and moved a bit closer before she spoke again—her voice hesitant...

“For example, I smell New Parchment, sandalwood and....” Draco’s gaze lifted as he waited for her to say the last item but she seemed to be struggling for a few seconds.

Then she finally bit out, “Spearmint toothpaste.”

Draco smirked inwardly. 

She had just lied.

That wasn’t what she had smelled but he had to give her credit. Whatever it was—had shaken her to the point that she either didn’t want to acknowledge it or didn’t know why she was smelling it.

_Curious_.

“Now Amortentia doesn’t create actual love,” Professor Slughorn admonished playfully, “that would be impossible, but it does cause powerful infatuation or obsession and for that reason it’s probably the most dangerous potion in this room.”

Draco grinned at Blaise, who was watching several of their female classmates walking towards the cauldron in a trance. When the Professor put the lid on the top of the cauldron, several of the girls stepped back.

Katie Bell, once she was feeling a bit more herself, said, “Sir, you haven’t told us what’s in that one?”

“Ah, _yes_...what you see before you ladies and gentlemen is a curious little potion known as Felix Felicis. It is more commonly referred to as...”

“Liquid Luck.” Hermione blurted out and Slughorn nodded at her proudly.

“Yes, Miss Prewett. Liquid Luck. Desperately tricky to make and disastrous should you get it wrong. One sip and you’ll find that all your endeavors will succeed. At least until the effects wear off.” 

Draco’s gaze locked on the small bottle with intrigue.

“So, this is what I offer each of you today. One tiny vial of Liquid Luck for the student in the hour that remains, manages to brew an acceptable draft of living death. Recipes for which can be found on page ten of your books. I should point out however, that only one student managed to brew a potion of sufficient quality to claim this prize. Nevertheless, good luck to you all. Let the brewing commence!”

Draco grinned, inwardly pleased—as he’d brewed this potion with his godfather several times and knew that the recipe in the book was utter rubbish.

He went to his work station as he heard Potter claim that he hadn’t the book for their class—as he’d enrolled in the class late. Slughorn directed him to the back of the classroom where the extra books were held in a cupboard and Draco didn’t listen any further as he proceeded with his task.

It was nearly an hour later when he looked down at his cauldron and smirked.

His potion was perfect.

When he gazed up, he grinned at Hermione who appeared frustrated...her hair back to looking like its former frizzy self and he chuckled at how adorable she was.

He didn’t realize how much he’d missed her curls until this moment.

Well, teasing her about said curls.

When their Professor got to him, he looked into the cauldron wide-eyed and beamed in delight before taking a leaf and dropping it in.

“Excellent work, Mr. Malfoy! Your potion is perfect!”

Draco nodded and when he caught Prewett’s glare, he smirked and winked.

Then Slughorn got to Potter, and the man gushed over his potion too. Draco’s gaze narrowed in disbelief as there was simply _no way _that Harry fucking Potter could have known all the modifications of the textbook recipe required to make a perfect Draught of Living Death.

But Slughorn was heaping praise on the Boy Who Lived, and then said, “In all my years! I’ve never had two students brew such perfect potions! Therefore this prize will be shared between equally the both of you. Come back tomorrow and I will make sure you each have your fair share.”

Harry just nodded smugly at him, but Draco smelled a rat.

After they’d cleaned up, Draco saw Potter put his tattered potions book into his book bag. He followed the wizard out of the classroom until they had made their way around the corner and towards the stairs before he called out Potter’s name.

He watched the Gryffindor stop and stare back at him, while Hermione just seemed confused.

Theo’s smirk was telling though.

“Okay, Potter? Want to explain just _how you did that?”_

“I don’t know what you mean, Malfoy?”

Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose before he jutted his chin to a side door and gestured for Potter, Theo and Hermione to follow him inside.

Blaise came with him, as his mate was silently laughing under his breath.

When they were all in the room, Draco silenced and warded the room.

“I’m going to give you one chance to make this right, Potter. There is _no possible way _you could have brewed that potion on your own.”

“Malfoy...” Hermione’s voice was cold and held a warning edge, but he just put his hands up placatingly.

“Look...My Godfather is Professor Snape, and I have been brewing potions with him since I could sit at a cauldron and pay attention. So I know that our books instructions are utter _rubbish_. There are so many modifications to that potion that only someone who’s brewed it on multiple occasions would know that the sophorous beans need to be _crushed_...not chopped. And that 13 beans need to be used, not 12. That there is a clockwise stir after every seven counter-clockwise stirs.” Draco’s gaze was blistering as he moved into the Gryffindor’s personal space and demanded in a harsh voice, “Now tell me, Potter, how in Merlin’s name did you know how to do that?”

Hermione eyes widened comically and then she turned the full force of her glare on her brother and held her hand out.

Harry, looked down in shame before he took the potions book out of his book bag and handed it to his sister.

She opened it to page ten and gasped in shock.

“Harry James Potter!”

“Sorry, Mione.”

She flitted through the pages until she got to the front cover and saw the inscription inside.

“This book belongs to the Half-Blood Prince? Who in Merlin’s name is that?”

Draco scoffed and gave Harry his most contemptuous sneer.

“That, my dear Prewett—is Severus old potions textbook.”

“Huh?”

“His Mother was Eileen Prince.”

“Oh?” She blushed and handed the book to Malfoy and then smacked her brother upside the head. “Harry, do you realize what might’ve happened had Malfoy chosen to go to Professor Snape with his suspicions?” She then shook her head. “Please give that back to Professor Snape, Malfoy.”

“I will.” He then leveled another caustic sneer at Potter. “I won’t embarrass you in front of Slughorn, Potter. The man obviously has a huge crush of some kind on you or maybe it’s just misplaced hero worship.” Blaise and Theo snorted while Potter glared, his face turning red.

Hermione just shook her head and mouthed, ‘_really?’_

Draco shrugged but went on. “You pick up your winnings tomorrow and then give it to Theo to return to me and we will forget this incident ever happened.”

“What are you going to want from me, Malfoy?” Harry bit out while Draco smirked triumphantly.

“Who knows, Potter. Your firstborn, your firebolt?” Draco cupped his hand on his chin as he hummed seriously at that brilliant idea—but Hermione’s playfully irritated ‘_Malfoy_’ had him re-thinking that idea. “I’ll come up with something.”

“I bet you will.” Harry muttered petulantly and hissed when his sister wandlessly zapped his arse, causing him to yelp.

“Hey!”

“Don’t ‘_hey_’ me, brother mine. You _cheated_ and not very smartly. What have I told you about that?”

“Don’t do something unexpected unless I know I won’t be caught.”

“_Exactly_.”

Draco coughed out a laugh and even Blaise and Theo snickered.

“Do tell, Miss Prewett.”

“Please, Malfoy, as if I’m going to share my more dubious exploits with a Slytherin.”

“I’m sure Theo knows.” Blaise parlayed back and Theo just folded his arms over his chest in smug satisfaction.

“Because she knows she can trust me.”

“And I’ll set his arse on fire too, if he betrays me.”

“Yes, that too.” Theo winked, and Hermione could only smile fondly at her cousin.

She really had come to care for him quite a lot.

“Are we good here?” Theo asked, and Draco nodded before he and Blaise left the room.

When they were gone, Harry just stared morosely at the closed door.

“You got off easy, mate.” Theo offered evenly. “Draco could have had you brought up on disciplinary charges if nothing else. Dumbledore would’ve been hard pressed to save your arse for cheating in a NEWT class and your Auror aspirations?”

Theo made the explosion sign with his hand and Harry nodded solemnly.

“No, I get it. I’m just surprised is all.”

“I’m not.” Theo said softly. “Draco put our whole house on alert last night. If anyone uses the word mudblood he made it clear he would go after them. He wants to try and make Slytherin respectable to other houses.”

Both Hermione and Harry stared at Theo in disbelief.

“Why?” Hermione bit out and Theo shrugged like he was wont to do.

“Honestly? Now that the Dark Lord is gone, I think Draco sees this as the freedom he was never able or allowed to have while the threat of Voldemort loomed large over his family. Lucius has made it clear he wants the taunting to stop. He thinks that in order for those in our house to be taken seriously, changes need to be made.”

“And you believe he’s sincere?” Harry asked incredulously and Theo nodded.

“He is.”

And with that, both Harry and Hermione watched Theo walk out of the empty classroom with matching stunned looks plastered upon their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Leave a review or some love!


	31. Sixth Year Drama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More drama unfurls as sixth year gets properly underway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! Thanks to all the lovely kudos and reviews. Graduate School has started back up again so posts may start coming a bit more infrequent for the next eight weeks. No worries though...this story is going to be a long one so probably a chapter or two per week unless I’m feeling more on top of my studies.

Good to his word, Harry handed over the precious vial of Liquid Luck to Theo later the following afternoon.

“He’s not going to use this during the Quidditch match against Gryffindor, is he?”

Theo just snickered. “Come on, Potter...do you really know so little about Draco after watching him all these years? Do you think for a second that he’d cheat just to beat you? If that was the case— he’d have found a way to hex your broom by now.”

“So you’re telling me he wants to win fair and square?”

“Knowing Draco as I do, he wouldn’t want it any other way. If only for the reason that it would make his victory all the sweeter and he’d get more satisfaction taunting you about the loss afterwards.”

Harry had to smile at that.

Malfoy was a first class git after all.

“Good to know.”

The two wizards parted at the stairs with a wave and Theo headed back towards the Slytherin dungeons with Draco’s prize firmly placed within his trouser pocket, while Harry went back to the Gryffindor common room.

The walk to Slytherin from the lower staircases was a rather short one, so when Theo got closer to the hidden common room door, he wasn’t surprised to see several of his classmates out and about.

One in particular caught his eye.

“Shardlow.” Theo bowed his head in greeting.

“Nott.” The older witch scoffed. “Where have you been keeping yourself these days?”

Theo did his shrug thing. “Here and there, you know how it is?”

The witch just rolled her eyes. “Yes, your newfound cousin. How can we all forget about the esteemed Prewett Heiress.”

Leaning up against the castle wall, Theo just stared down the other witch. “Your jealousy is showing, Olivia. You can’t still be hung up on Pucey?”

“You and I both know that the only reason Pucey ended our little understanding, was he found a bigger fish.”

“You don’t _know_ that. Things hadn’t been going well with you two for a while.”

“That’s only because his mother didn’t like me. It’s not my fault that Anastasia Pucey doesn’t think any witch is good enough for her precious prince. Well, except for Prewett.”

Theo wisely chose not to comment on that. 

It was widely known within Pureblood circles that both Anastasia and Armand had tried for years to get pregnant with Adrian. They had suffered several miscarriages before the successful birth of their only child and Heir. Adrian had been a bit of a player in his later years at Hogwarts. His good looks and affable personality attracted witches to him like a moth to a flame. Unfortunately for Olivia, she had fallen arse over tit for the handsome wizard after a single trip to a broom closet early last year.

But Adrian, for all his love of flirting, had never been one to lead a witch on purposefully. A snog here or there sure...but he was judicious with the witches he took into broom closets around the castle. 

Rarely indulging the same witch twice.

Blaise at one time suffered the same affliction but in his case—he’d taken to randomly snogging witches from other Houses whenever the mood struck and then plying them with flowers afterwards telling said witch that he’d had a wonderful time, thought the world of her and then explained how his mother was a black widow and would kill any witch he brought home.

It was a natural deterrent for any witch wishing for more than a casual one-off.

At least until he’d started courting Daphne last year.

“Maybe it’s time to move on? I heard Higgs was interested.”

Olivia just tutted like the idea was simply too implausible to be taken seriously.

“Please. We both know that little Miss Goody-Goody turns seventeen in a few weeks. If her magic doesn’t choose Adrian, I still have a shot.”

Theo’s eyebrows raised in surprise and then his expression darkened as he moved into the witch’s personal space.

“Be very careful, Shardlow. If I find out you’ve done anything to interfere with Hermione, I will take action _personally_. She is _my family_, and you do know what the Nott’s do to those who harm family.”

The witch swallowed and paled, her left eye twitching as she tried very hard not to cower.

That was alright, Theo thought smugly. He’d made his point clear enough.

He gave the witch a final nod in parting and headed into the common room, where Draco was holding court by the fireplace with Blaise, Crabbe, Goyle, Daphne and Pansy.

“Hey, mate. I got that thing you wanted me to get. Should I just place it into your trunk?”

Draco smirked and stood, waving Theo towards his room and when they got there...Theo handed Draco the tiny vial of Liquid Luck.

“What did Potter say when he handed this over?”

“He wanted to know if you were going to use it during your game with Gryffindor.”

Draco chuckled deeply, amused by the thought.

“That’s an interesting idea and one that I hadn’t considered at all.” He lifted the vial into the light and gave it a critical look before checking it for curses, hexes and tampering.

“You really think Potter would tamper with it?”

“Who knows. I think the git thinks he’s smarter than he is and isn’t beyond giving himself an advantage if he honestly thought he’d get away with it.”

Draco went over to his trunk and placed the vial into a warded area that he kept secure for a few special keepsakes.

“I ran into Shardlow before I came into the common room.” Theo offered and Draco just snorted in disgust.

“She’s still not over Pucey, I take it? You did see her with Edgecombe at my Mother’s garden party this summer, right? Marietta still has those atrocious bangs covering the nice little scar that our resident Gryffindor Princess gave her late last year.”

“Shardlow mentioned something about Hermione turning seventeen and how she still had a shot with Pucey if Hermione’s magic didn’t choose him.”

Draco stiffened slightly, but Theo caught it.

“She doesn’t know that, no one does,” Draco lied easily, “Prewett’s magic may very well choose Adrian as her ancillary.”

“You don’t honestly believe that any more than I do.” Theo admitted with a smirk, as he sat down on the bed and eyed his fellow Slytherin skeptically.

“I don’t know what to think Theo. This whole thing is unprecedented and there isn’t anyone in recent memory who can speak to it. Maybe if we had more information to go on that would be something, but we don’t. Everyone is speculating and second-guessing. I can’t imagine it’s any easier for Prewett to deal with the unknown either. I’m just choosing to stay out of it.”

“Really?”

“Come on, mate, seriously? Me and Hermione Prewett? She barely tolerates me and with good reason. You think her magic is going to choose me?”

Theo couldn’t help the snicker that fell from his lips. 

The thought was fairly laughable.

But probably not as laughable as Draco was trying to make it out to be.

“While I can understand that your past assignations make it unlikely that you’d be well-suited—we both know that magic doesn’t always work that way. I’ve seen some of Hermione’s powers and while I might’ve initially thought that the magic would only choose someone she’d definitely have feelings for—I tend to think that her magic is going to choose it closest match as far as stability and control is concerned.”

Draco sat down, his expression clearly intrigued. “Is her magic unstable?”

“Not exactly, I think it’s _searching_ and seeking and that’s all I wish to say on the subject.”

Nodding in understanding, Draco could understand on some level how difficult this was for Theo. It was clear he cared about Hermione and she for him. There was even some genuine affection with Potter.

It was odd.

“Well, whatever happens I’m fairly confident it will have little to do with me.” Draco lied easily.

“Probably true, mate. I just wonder if her magic does end up choosing Pucey, how that’s going to work.”

Draco grimaced but then he thought about it and snorted. “Have you told her that when her magic bonds, it’s essentially higher than a marriage bond or even a soul bond? An elemental ancillary bond is the highest order of mate bonds. She will, for all intents and purposes, be married by magic when that moment comes.”

Theo paled and he realized a bit belatedly he hadn’t had that particular conversation with Hermione, and watched as Draco fell off his bed howling in mirth.

“Oh please, Theo? Give me a pensieve memory of that conversation after you have it, will you?”

“Shut up, Draco.”

The blonde just continued to chortle and chuckle as he stood up and gave his mate a pat on his shoulder.

“It’s been nice knowing you, Nott.”

“Fuck off, you prick.”

Draco continued to laugh as he left the dorm room, leaving Theo all by himself—brooding.

How in Salazar’s name was he going to explain that little nugget to his cousin?

Draco was correct...Hermione was going to kill him.

So here Theo was at the library on a Saturday afternoon.

It had taken him a few days to work up the courage to have his little tête-à-tête with Hermione. She’d been busy with Professor Snape and Theo figured she’d had a talk with McGonagall too. When he’d finally caught up with her— Hermione was busy studying in her favorite spot in the back corner of the library.

“Hey.” He whispered as he caught her attention. She smiled and waved him towards a seat across from her which he took nervously. “I’ve been trying to talk to you all week.”

“Sorry,” She grimaced, “I’ve been meeting with Professor Snape every night for the past week after curfew for an hour.

“How’s it going?”

“Surprisingly well,” she admitted with a grin, “he’s a task master, but I was somewhat prepared. Professor Snape tried to give a Harry Occlumency lessons last year—which had gone atrociously for Harry. He was pants at Occlumency, but that probably had to do with the fact that he had a piece of Voldemort’s soul attached to him.”

“Huh?” Theo sat back stunned and Hermione sighed and nodded.

“Yeah. Long story and I’ll share it some other time, okay?”

“Sure.” Theo tapped his finger on the table absently as he tried to figure out how best to broach this very sensitive subject with his cousin.

“You alright?” Hermione queried, giving him an opening.

“Not exactly.” He admitted with his usual shrug. “I have something I need to discuss with you and I’m not sure how you’re going to take it. I probably should’ve mentioned it earlier, but honestly it just slipped my mind.”

“Uhm...oh-Kay?” Closing her books and setting her assignment aside that she’d been working on for Charms, Hermione gave Theo her undivided attention. “Spill.”

“Yeah...” Theo cleared his throat several times, wringing his hands together and Hermione started to realize that whatever it was...it was serious enough to make Theo react in such a way.

“Theo...it’s going to be fine. Whatever it is we can figure it out together but you have to tell me.”

“Just promise you won’t incinerate me?”

Hermione’s face blanched at the words...but the look on Theo’s face let her know that he was truly worried about her reaction.

“I promise silly...now tell me.”

So Theo did. He shared the conversation he’d had with Draco the previous night but left the more cognizant parts of the talk out.

Pretty much anything to do with Draco.

“So let me get this straight? When I turn seventeen my magical core will stabilize which you’ve mentioned before. You’ve also mentioned if my bonded isn’t of age at that time, then my magic could become unstable. But you failed to mention that if my magic chooses someone...particularly Adrian in a few weeks—we’d be essentially married? Is Adrian aware of this?”

Theo swallowed and nodded and watched as Hermione stood up and paced agitatedly in their small nook, her hands flexing as she would stop...mutter something and pace again.

Then she whipped around to face him directly and demanded, “What if I refuse to allow the bonding to happen?”

“Hermione? It doesn’t work that way. You will elementally bond to your ancillary. It’s deeper than a soul bond. Your magical cores will align, your magic will essentially be the _same_. You won’t want to reject that bond and if you try? You could get bond sickness and your mate will likely suffer too. _You both could die!”_

Hermione dropped down into her chair and groaned. 

How in the world was this even possible?

“And I’m just supposed to be alright with this?”

Theo shrugged again and then flinched at his cousin’s caustic glare.

“I never said you had to be okay with it. Doesn’t change the reality of your situation though.” He muttered quietly and Hermione felt tears welling up in her eyes.

“I wouldn’t have to leave school? Would I?”

Theo gripped her hands and shook his head vehemently. “No! That I can promise you. Hermione, you’re a Sorceress...probably the most powerful one ever born. You get to choose what you want.”

“Except my bondmate!”

“Your magic is you. It knows what you need and what is best for you to thrive...be happy, stable and content. Do you not trust in your own magic?”

Hermione felt the wind deflate from her sails as the complaint that she was about to spew died on her tongue.

“I never thought about it like that, Theo. I wasn’t raised a Pureblood.” She removed her hands from his and slapped them down on the table in anger. “Why don’t we learn this stuff in school?”

“Hermione, _you know why.”_

The Gryffindor witch felt her anger simmering underneath her skin and Theo saw her eyes light up with flame before her powers started to manifest along her hands and arms.

“Hermione!” Theo whisper-yelled at her, desperate not to draw attention to them both. “Hermione!”

Theo watched helplessly as his cousin started to lose control of herself and he was at a loss. Her hair was on fire and her powers were starting to manifest to a point where he was afraid she wouldn’t be able to hold off her magic much longer.

So he did the only think he could do.

“_Auguamenti!”_

A large burst of water shot from his wand and drenched Hermione, thankfully causing her to sputter in shock. Theo then watched with amusement as his cousin looked down in horror at her clothes, that were utterly drenched and she screeched, “Theodore Nott! _Look what you did!”_

At that precise moment Madam Pince came around the corner and took one look at the both of them and muttered ‘_ridiculous_’ under her breath—before she pointed to the library entrance..silently telling them both to leave.

Hermione stood up and waved her hand, drying herself instantly which caused the librarian’s eyes to widen in disbelief. She grabbed her parchments, one of which was soaked and ruined...threw it at her cousin and stomped out of the library—cursing under her breath the entire way out.

Theo slammed his forehead on the table with a wince, not seeing Madam Pince’s lips pinching in frustration.

“Do I wish to know what happened here this afternoon, Mr. Nott?”

“Probably not, Madam Pince. I do apologize if we’ve disrupted anyone’s study time.”

“Then might I suggest you not accost your cousin in the library with news that would upset her again. I rather like my books in one piece and knowing Miss Prewett as I do? She’d be devastated if she were responsible for unplanned damage to any of the texts we have here.”

Theo just nodded at the reprimand and stood up, waving his wand and cleaning up the remaining mess.

“I will take your advice to heart, Madam.”

“See that you _do_.”

Theo watched the elderly librarian walk away and sighed heavily.

That hadn’t gone as bad as he’d feared and at least he was still in one piece.

But he was pretty sure his cousin wouldn’t be talking to him for the foreseeable future.

And that thought made Theo sad.


	32. No One Knows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione tries to figure out what to do, while a friend helps her realize that her situation is unprecedented.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Another chapter is here! Thanks for the continued support!

Hermione rushed out of the library, angry and upset. 

How in Merlin’s name has this become her life?

Was she supposed to change absolutely everything about herself because of her magic?

She loved being a witch, loved learning about magic and all the things it could do—but at her heart she was still that Muggleborn witch who had struggled for five years to find her place within this world.

She didn’t know how to be a Sorceress.

And right now she really didn’t want to be one.

When she got to the Gryffindor common room, the Fat Lady took one look at her and opened the portrait door, not evening waiting for the password. Hermione stormed through the common area—ignoring the stares of her classmates and headed up to her dorm room. When she got there, she threw her book bag down at the end of her bed and plopped down face up on her bed...staring at the ceiling.

How was she supposed to feel about any of this? 

So much of this didn’t make sense to her, but every time she tried to wrap her prodigious intellect around the particulars of her circumstances, the more confused she was.

There was no one to help her with any of this. No books for her to access, to read and dissect. Godric, there hadn’t been a Sorceress is six centuries!

How in the world was she expected to do this without some frame of reference!

It was beyond frustrating.

Obviously certain things were taught openly in Pureblood homes, but those things remained hidden away from people like her. Muggleborns—who were only told about their magic when they turned eleven. How fair was it to keep a child in the dark about something that was a fundamental part of who they were? She had often thought so, back when she had to study harder and be better than anyone else just to prove to herself and everyone else she belonged in this world. But now? She was just supposed to be thrilled about the fact that she was a Prewett and a member of the Sacred 28. 

That it gave her a certain legitimacy all of a sudden!

What a load of rubbish! 

She was the same witch!

Well, with more powers but still...

It wasn’t right...but she didn’t know how to fix any of it.

Dumbledore obviously had his reasons for not having a Magical Studies class where Muggleborns could learn about this stuff, but it didn’t make sense to her.

It wasn’t fair to expect an entire class of students to come into a school entirely unprepared for what awaited them...was it?

Hermione knew she wasn’t going to get any answers staring at the ceiling.

So she thought back carefully about what Theo had said and mulled over every bit of that conversation.

What her mind kept coming back around to was two things...One—she was going to bond to a ancillary for life. This bond was deeper then a soul bond even. She’d heard a bit about soul bonds and werewolf mate bonds...marriage bonds. Theo said her magic would choose its best match. The one that would make her the most stable...the most secure and happy.

Two—was the fact that Adrain knew about this and hadn’t told her. Why? Her grandmother hadn’t told her either...in fact no one had thought to broach the subject with her until now...weeks before she was to turn seventeen.

_Why?_

Hermione sat up and pondered the possibilities...liking each one less than the next.

What did she know so far?

_First_—there had likely been a Prophecy of some kind in regards to her birth or abilities as a Sorceress. Her parents had decided together that her mother would go into hiding with her family and her birth hadn’t been widely known but by a handful of people.

_Second_—Sirius had been the one to spirit her away. Somehow they’d planned a fall back in case they were compromised. Her Father died shortly after her Mother. Her Father died at the hand of Dolohov and his fellow Death Eaters and it was reasonable to assume her Mother had perished the same way.

She should have killed the wizard when she’d had the chance!

Shaking her head of that useless thought, Hermione continued to tally up facts as she knew them.

_Third_—Dumbledore somehow convinced her Mother’s family to leave the safety of McKinnon Manor. Why? There had to be a reason that had happened. Her Mother’s will had indicated that she wished for her daughter to no longer have ties to the Order of the Phoenix. So somehow, had her Mother suspected that Dumbledore motivations hadn’t been on the up and up?

_Fourth_—they had hidden her behind a long term glamour which according to some phantom Prophecy, may have indicated her role in the death of Voldemort. That was likely as her Mother had inferred as much in her will.

_Fifth_—it was likely Dumbledore had knowledge of the Prophecy. Was it in the Prophecy room when it was destroyed and if not...where was it and who had it? Dumbledore? Was it at McKinnon Manor somewhere?

Did it matter?

As Hermione pondered that question—other snippets of information flitted through her consciousness.

The biggest one was why had Dumbledore spared Lucius Malfoy and made him take an unbreakable vow?

Of all the things that had come out of the battle at the Department of Mysteries..._that one made the least sense to her._

The man had been caught red-handed engaging in Death Eater activities. 

So why let him go?

Why make him take a vow and let him go free?

As much as she tried to wrap her mind around it, nothing made sense to Hermione.

The wizard was powerful and well-connected—but so was Dumbledore.

And just what exactly had that vow entailed?

Dumbledore likely wouldn’t tell her, and Lucius Malfoy couldn’t.

So who was their bonder?

One of the Order who was present that night?

All this led Hermione to her final thought and the one she kept coming back to. Why hadn’t anyone told her that in the space of a few weeks she might potentially bond with a bondmate?

Why hadn’t Adrian told her and who the fuck was this Olivia Shardlow? 

Hermione thought back and remembered the witch from the Malfoy’s garden party and cringed when she remembered said witch talking to Marietta Edgecombe.

So Olivia Shardlow had a thing with Adrian? 

Okay?

People have relationships all the time that don’t work out but Theo made it seem like the witch wasn’t over Adrian.

Sad, but _not_ her problem.

Turning her body sideways and settling her legs over her bed, Hermione sighed.

This ridiculous speculation was getting her absolutely nowhere.

Except more upset and irritated.

Even her magic was feeling unhappy.

Maybe it was time to get a different perspective and maybe get some answers.

With renewed determination, Hermione left the safety of her room and made her way down to the Gryffindor Common Room.

She wasn’t surprised to see Harry, Ron and Ginny all waiting for her.

“Mione!” Ron’s voice was the loudest to reach her...over Harry’s more subdued ‘_Hermione.’_

“Hi. Theo found you?”

Harry rubbed his scar and nodded. “Yeah, he came and found Ron and I on the pitch and told us what happened. You okay?”

“No! I am not okay, Harry!” 

Hermione plopped down on the couch with Harry and Ron taking their usual spots on either side of her. The rest of the common room had gotten predictably quiet.

“I don’t understand why no one explained this to me? I just hate not having all the necessary information, you know? Now I have to find out that I could be potentially bonded to someone in the space of a few weeks. It’s _mad!”_

Ginny nodded, while Harry and Ron just patter her knees sympathetically.

“I think, Mione,” Ron began hesitantly, “that everyone _forgets_ that there are things you don’t know because you’re so much smarter than everyone and better at research.”

Hermione’s head whipped to stare at her best friend, who was just looking at her sheepishly.

“That’s the smartest thing you’ve ever said, Ron.”

Ron chuckled and everyone in the common room nodded in agreement.

“Doesn’t make it okay, though.”

“Nope, it doesn’t but maybe you won’t have to worry about it. Maybe your magic won’t bond to anyone just yet?”

“What do you mean?”

Ron thought about it for a moment but then he just shrugged helplessly. “Look, Mione, no one really knows how a Sorcerer or Sorceress bonds to an ancillary, right? There’s really no books on the subjects, no histories to read that you can go to. Merlin, I’m surprised the Department of Mysteries hasn’t been banging on Aunt Muriel’s door trying to get more information.”

“I’d like to see them try that.” Ginny grinned, causing them all to chuckle at the thought of anyone trying to demand anything of Muriel.

“I think,” Ron continued, “that people are speculatin’ and guessin’ what’s gonna happen but no one knows, right?”

“But the information had to come from somewhere?”

“Yeah, maybe but, Mione...there’s never been a Sorceress like you before. I mean, everyone knows by now that you’ve manifested and didn’t bond with anyone, right? Doesn’t take a genius to figure out why that is.”

“So you’re saying that I may not have to bond with anyone?”

Ron shook his head. “Nah, you’ll bond with some lucky bloke, but probably when your magic feels it’s ready. When _you’re_ ready. You’re too stubborn, so my guess is your magic is too. It’s not gonna choose some random bloke, but someone who will compliment you and be an anchor for your more Gryffindor traits.”

Everyone in the common room sat back stunned at how wise Ron Weasley just sounded, and Hermione smiled tremulously and threw her arms around her best friend.

“When did you get so smart, Ron?”

When Hermione pulled back, Ron’s face was red as a beet red tomato.

“I’m not an idiot. I just think people want to fit you into this mold and it’s rubbish. You’re not like anyone else. You’re just Mione...Brightest Witch and all that.”

“Ron’s right.” Harry admitted unequivocally. “No one has any idea what to expect and everyone is drawing their own conclusions. It’s going to happen, Hermione, but I don’t think that will be a bad thing. I just think you need to continue working with Professor Snape and staying grounded.” Then Harry grinned. “And try not to burn anything down in a fit of temper.”

“Did Theo tell you what he did?”

Harry nodded and snickered too. “Yeah. Wish I’d been there to see it but you might want to go and have a talk with Theo. He’s panicked that your not going to forgive him for saying something.”

Hermione groaned and then stood. “Did he go back to Slytherin?”

Harry shrugged. “Dunno but dinner is starting soon. Let’s head down to the Great Hall and I’m sure you can catch him there.”

“Fine.”

The Gryffindor trio plus Ginny, Neville, Seamus and Dean headed down for dinner and met up with Luna on the way.

Once they entered the Great Hall, Hermione looked for Theo who was sitting with his head down, morosely picking at his dinner. Malfoy was sitting next to him and when he looked up and their eyes met, he lifted an eyebrow questioningly.

Hermione lifted her chin in Theo’s direction and Malfoy nodded and nudged his housemate, who’s head shot up in irritation and then understanding...then relief when he saw Hermione smiling at him.

She went to sit down with Harry and keeping eye contact with Theo, tapped her temple and watched him nod before she linked her mind with his.

“_Sorry_.” She spoke silently into her cousin’s mind and heard him sigh.

“**Me too. I wish I could’ve told you some other way.”**

_“I know. Theo...maybe it won’t even happen the way you’re thinking?”_

“**Meaning?”**

“_Well, has there ever been a Sorceress like me that you know of?”_

There was a prolonged silence and then she heard Theo sigh again.

“**Not that I’m aware of and yes, you’re right. It might not happen the way we think it will.”**

_“Then let’s not worry about it for now? When it happens, hopefully I’ll be ready. If not—maybe I can just turn whomever it is to a ball of ash and start over.”_

Theo’s laughter reverberated throughout the Great Hall, earning him several strange looks.

Draco just smirked as Theo had that same blank look on his face denoting he was having a silent tête-à-tête with his cousin, before he burst into histrionics.

When their connection was broken, Theo grinned when Hermione winked at him. He just continued to chuckle at how utterly ridiculous she was sometimes.

Although he wouldn’t put it past her to make good on that threat.

“You okay?” Draco drawled and Theo turned his head slightly towards his dorm mate and nodded.

“I’m good.”

“I take it she didn’t handle it well?” Draco whispered, his tone of voice self-satisfied.

“No, but she did decide that if she doesn’t like her bond mate she can always burn him to ash and then start over.”

Theo watched as Draco swallowed heavily, his face paling slightly before his eyes narrowed disbelievingly.

“She did _not_ say that.”

Theo did his shrug thing and quipped back, “Believe what you want—Besides, I thought you weren’t going to worry about it, mate?”

Draco just sneered, but didn’t reply as he went back to finish his dinner.

Theo took a bite of his cottage pie and chewed it with relish. 

Maybe Malfoy being Hermione’s bondmate might not be such a bad idea after all.

In the years to come, Theo would kick himself repeatedly when he remembered back on his exact thoughts at this precise moment.

_There was no way he could’ve predicted what was to come._


	33. Countdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione works on her Occlumency.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! Another chapter in the saga...thank you for the reviews and kudos.

The countdown to Hermione’s seventeenth birthday was being watched silently by many. Those within the Pureblood community who had eligible heirs wondered if the Prewett Heiress would find her match either on her birthday, or soon thereafter.

When Hermione had come into Professor Snape’s office for her nightly Occlumency training, the night before she was to turn seventeen, he noticed that the young witch was moodier and more agitated than normal.

After his fourth failed attempt to get her mind to calm and focus on the task at hand—the surly Professor just pinched the bridge of his nose in defeat and sat down across from the witch.

“I can see that tonight is going to be a _waste_ of my time.”

Hermione cast her eyes downward in shame.

“I’m sorry, Professor. My mind isn’t where it needs to be tonight.”

“Yes, that I can see for myself.”

“Should I go?” The witch’s blue eyes bored up at him pleadingly and Severus felt some of his resolve shift.

“Perhaps you might speak to someone about what you’re feeling?”

Severus watched the young witch’s eyes widen in surprise but before she could speak he put a single hand up to halt her.

“I did not mean _me_...Miss Prewett. Have you tried discussing this with your Grandmother...Minerva?”

Hermione shook her head in the negative. “I haven’t wanted to burden anyone Professor (his dramatic sigh had her lifting her chin up stubbornly) _because no one can tell me anything concrete.”_

“Ah,” Snape nodded, “I can see why you might be frustrated. I sometimes forget that not everything about magic can be found in a _book_, Miss Prewett.”

“Obviously.” She deadpanned, which earned a slight quirk of her Professor’s lips in response.

“Perhaps you might start with the questions that do have answers.”

Hermione’s blue eyes settled on her Defense Professor with a quizzical look, before she nodded in understanding.

“And if I were to ask the correct questions, Sir...would you answer them?”

Snape smirked and nodded once. “If you do not however, then I’m afraid I will not be volunteering information, Miss Prewett.”

“Fair enough.” The young witch bit back as she thought about what she wanted to ask—and just how to ask it.

She’d have to be fairly specific, as Professor Snape wasn’t one to just give up information.

He was much too tight lipped for that, being a spy in the Order for as long as he had been.

“My Mother, did you know her well?”

Snape’s eyebrow lifted at this unexpected question but he nodded.

“Quite well, up until sixth year.”

Hermione pondered that and remembered that her Mother had dated Sirius sixth year. So that was unexpected and made her wonder just how her Professor knew her Mother—being in different houses as they were.

“Andromeda told me that Dolohov was obsessed with my Mother. Were you aware of this?”

Severus breath hitched in surprise that Andi would’ve spoken about that to Marlene’s daughter, but he could only nod in reply.

“I _was_.”

“Dolohov killed my Father and my Uncle. Did he find my Mother and kill her too? Her family?”

Severus sat down on the bench across from the young witch and bored his gaze into her’s. There was hesitation there, but resolve too. Almost as if she was bracing herself for the inevitable answer she knew was coming.

“_Yes_. Someone found your Mother’s sibling—Marcus one evening, outside the Fidelius on the home they were staying in. He went to see his betrothed, in secret. We never did end up discovering who that person was at the time, but I’m fairly certain you can guess whom it might’ve been?”

“Pettigrew.”

“Yes.”

“Is that why Sirius was incarcerated without a trial? Because they blamed him for the deaths of the McKinnon Family as well as the Potter’s?”

Snape sat back and eyed the witch with something akin to respect.

_No one had ever put that together._

There had been some suspicions about Sirius when it was he who discovered the McKinnons were killed...but everyone in the Order suspected that Dolohov had done the deed. When the Potter’s were killed, and the ensuing drama that happened after with Pettigrew supposedly being killed along with those Muggles...no one was willing to listen to the rantings of Black...even if he didn’t have the Dark Mark.

“_Yes_.”

“Could Dumbledore have saved Sirius or made sure he’d gotten a fair trial?”

Severus pondered the best way to answer, but in the end the truth was easiest.

“He might’ve been. He _didn’t_ make the attempt however.”

Hermione’s face darkened as she bit her lip hard then nodded.

“Were you familiar with Harry’s Prophecy?”

Hermione knew she’d hit a sore spot as her Professor’s breath hitched in deeply, his expression darkening ominously but all he said was a deep, “Yes.”

“And mine?”

“No.”

“But Dumbledore knew of it?”

“That I cannot say with certainty, Miss Prewett. I was never privy to that information. I don’t imagine though, there were many who were.”

“Why don’t they teach magical traditions here at school?”

Snape tilted his head thoughtfully at the young witch, again—surprised by her line of questioning. It was clear she’d thought about this quite a bit in recent months.

“That I cannot say with all certainty. But, I will say that it does make it easier to keep certain things _separate_ and open to manipulation if one _controls the narrative...don’t you agree?”_

Hermione’s gaze darkened further as she nodded again.

“I suppose it does.” She rubbed her hands down her thighs and decided to ask one final question.

“Do you know who the bonder was for the unbreakable vow that Dumbledore required of Lucius Malfoy?”

Snape’s dark eyes gleamed with amusement as he drawled out, “_Obviously_.”

Hermione grinned, not needing her Professor to expand on that question further.

Well, maybe she’d push her luck...

“Would you be able to tell me what the vow entailed?”

Professor Snape actually chuckled deeply, his eyes now filled with mirth.

She’d never seen him thusly.

“I would.” She went to speak but he put his hand up again to halt her. “However, as I was only the bonder you would need permission from the Headmaster first—as he was the one who initiated the vow.”

Hermione’s face radiated both annoyance and interest at learning something new.

“I’ve never read that! _Why don’t we learn that?”_

Snape just shook his head and drawled, “That is something you will learn next year in your NEWT level Charms class. The reason being is you cannot willingly partake in an unbreakable vow until you are of age. Therefore, it is not something that _needs_ to be taught until the age of seventeen.”

“Oh!” She replied with a twinge of embarrassment. “Thank you for answering my questions, Professor.”

“You’re welcome, Miss Prewett, but do understand that we won’t be making these little discourses a habit. Please return when you feel your are sufficiently more prepared.”

“Of course, Sir.”

Hermione stood up and reached for her book bag and as she walked out of Professor Snape’s office, she had a thought.

“Do you think Dumbledore knows who my bond mate is?”

Snape lifted a single eyebrow and tilted his head at her for a moment before he spoke. His voice was clear, controlled but held an edge to it that if she’d known the Potions Master better, might’ve given her pause.

“I can’t say.”

Hermione nodded and left Snape’s office, missing the scowl that covered the older wizard’s face.

Snape had every belief that Dumbledore knew exactly whom Miss Prewett’s ancillary would end up being. Thankfully for him, she hadn’t asked him if he suspected just whom that wizard might be.

Severus was no fool.

He’d suspected from the moment Dumbledore required Lucius to make that ridiculous vow. He’d done so to make sure that the young witch didn’t end up suffering a terrible fate but he’d also made sure that Lucius Malfoy was now in his debt. Dumbledore might appear to be a doddering old fool, but he never did anything without careful consideration.

The fact that his Godson had inquired recently about fine tuning his own Occlumency, was interesting as well.

Shaking his head, Severus had to wonder just how Miss Prewett would react when she discovered just whom she was likely destined to bond with. Their history aside, both his pupils were highly intelligent, magically powerful, stubborn, perfectionists with a penchant for cunning and cruelty. Severus wasn’t unaware of just how Miss Prewett had led Delores Umbridge to her fate last year, nor her capturing of Rita Skeeter in a mason jar and blackmailing said reporter.

Being a spy for twenty years, not much got by him. 

Students minds were rather fragile things and he could pick up on basic thoughts well enough.

Since her transformation, Miss Prewett’s mental barriers had increased exponentially. During their sessions—she was able to shield her thoughts most efficiently, but not her emotions.

Not completely.

And it was _that_ which was causing her magic to become unsettled and moody.

His godson however, had complete emotional control over his thoughts. Draco had managed somehow this past summer, to put away his propensity for childish endeavors and petty games. So much so, that Severus was having a hard time getting a true read on Draco’s feelings.

Draco would be a better Occlumens than he ever was, by the time he reached his thirties.

He probably would be a gifted legilimens too, and it was something that Severus wondered if he should have a talk with Lucius about at some point soon.

If his suspicions were true, and they usually _were_—Draco would need every skill necessary to compliment Miss Prewett when the inevitable happened.

If she didn’t kill him first.


	34. It’s Your Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione’s 17th Birthday finally arrives!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the longest chapter of the story as I couldn’t find a good spot to break it into two chapters...enjoy and thank you for the reviews and kudos!

Her birthday had finally arrived!

As Hermione sat down for breakfast and picked at her porridge and berries, she tried her best to ignore all the stares coming her way.

When she looked up at the Head table, Professor Dumbledore was busy talking with McGonagall, not looking too terribly worried or bothered.

Well that was interesting.

Then the mail arrived.

She waited and as predicted, several owls dropped off things for her.

There was a small box from her Grandmother. Another from Remus. One from Tonks and Andromeda. A letter from Molly and Arthur. And then a final owl, Adrian’s owl—dropped off a letter too.

“Happy Birthday, Mione.” Neville piped up and she smiled and nodded.

“Thanks, Neville.”

“Harry said we were gonna have a party tonight in Gryffindor.”

“He did?”

Neville blushed and nodded in reply—realizing perhaps he shouldn’t have said anything.

“I’m sure it’s not a secret, Neville.”

The other wizard just breathed a sigh of relief and went back to his morning rashers and porridge.

It was a few moments later that Harry and Ron came barreling into their usual spots with Happy Birthday greetings of their own.

“You got a few things.” Harry grinned as he picked up the letter from Adrian...recognizing the handwriting and waving it in her direction.

Scowling, she ripped it away with a look of warning.

“Don’t touch things that don’t belong to you, Brother mine.” She nudged Harry’s shoulder and then gestured to Neville. “So what time’s the party tonight? Did you invite Theo?”

Harry snorted and said, “Of course. Whether he braves Gryffindor is another issue altogether.”

“Maybe you should have him invite a friend.”

“I didn’t think he was close to anyone in his house?”

“What about Luna? You invited her, right? They seemed to get along rather well this past summer.”

Hermione watched Harry dish up his breakfast as he said, “I invited Luna too. Maybe I’ll have Nott bring her when he comes. That way they won’t feel too out of place.”

“Sneaky.” Hermione quipped, while Harry just smirked.

“I like Luna and she could do worse. I think Nott has a bit of a thing for her.”

“Really? How can you tell?”

Harry just gave his sister a look that said, ‘_you’re barking, right?’_

“Mione, he pays attention to her ramblings and asks questions. Thoughtful ones.” Ron offered in a voice that screamed ‘_isn’t it obvious?’_

“Am I the only one who doesn’t see this stuff?”

“You have other things on your mind.” Harry replied, pouring some pumpkin juice and offering her a glass, which she declined. “Open your gifts.”

Hermione hesitated briefly before picking the one from Remus first. When she opened it, she smiled as it was a chocolate frog from Honeydukes and a package of sugar quills.

Leave it to Remus to get her chocolate.

Setting it aside, she opened the small parcel from Andromeda and Tonks, and looked inside before waving her hand and enlarging the gift. It was a beautiful creme cashmere scarf and gloves that were fur-lined.

Perfect for winter time.

Setting those aside, the next thing was the letter from Molly and Arthur. Inside were a several memory vials labeled. Hermione felt her hands shake as she gripped the tiny vials inside her hands.

“Are those what I think they are?” Ron whispered and Hermione nodded.

“When I talked with your Mum over the summer, she told me she’d try to get a few memories together of my parents for me to see.”

Ron swallowed, his eyes fixated on the gift. When Hermione looked up she could see Theo smiling softly at her. She nodded and mouthed, ‘_memories_’ and he just returned the gesture in silent understanding.

The next gift was from her Grandmother, and when Hermione opened it her breath whooshed out in shock. Pulling out the small box, she enlarged it and then opened it.

Inside was a creme fur-lined Gryffindor red cashmere cloak with golden thread interwoven along the seams. She stood up and gently tried it on.

It fit _perfectly_.

“That’s gorgeous.” She heard Lavender Brown whisper in awe. “That has to be from Madam Pernelle’s boutique on the Rue de Magique in Paris. I’ve only ever seen one other cloak like this.”

Hermione took if off and gently waved her hand over the fabric, shrinking it back down and placing it back into the box to be stored in her book back until she got back to Gryffindor Tower after class.

The last letter was Adrian’s. Taking a deep breath—she opened and read it.

_ **Happy Birthday Little Witch,** _

_ **I have missed you these past few weeks and as I’m sure you’re aware...this is a special birthday for you.** _

_ **I know you must be feeling all sorts of things these past weeks, and I wish I could be there to discuss this with you. I wrote to Theo a few days ago, and he explained about your conversation in the library.** _

_ **Hermione, please don’t worry about what may or may not happen. I have every confidence that when you’re ready, your magic will know what is right for you and not a minute sooner. I’ll admit—I’m a selfish wizard in that I’d hope your magic might choose me, but I do know that I don’t get a vote. Not really. So what you need to know and what I need to say is that if you wish to continue seeing me, I would like nothing better than to make myself available to you.** _

_ **But if you don’t, I’d understand that too.** _

_ **I wouldn’t like it. Not in the least, but I made myself a promise when I decided to follow my heart and take this leap of faith—and that was to see it to whatever end.** _

_ **Because you’re worth it.** _

_ **So...this Saturday is a Hogsmeade weekend. I would very much like to see you and spend the day with you. I do have a gift for you, but would prefer to give it to you in person—if you’ll allow me the honor.** _

_ **I’ve missed kissing you too—** _

_ **Waiting patiently for your reply,** _

_ **Yours, Adrian** _

Her face broke out into a happy smile and all the worry melted away as she re-read through the words one more time. When her gaze lifted again, she noticed Theo was watching her—as were several other people at the Slytherin table—so she just tapped her temple and watched Theo chuckle.

When she made the connection, she could feel his amusement.

**“Adrian wrote to you?”**

“_He did.”_

“**Why didn’t you say something?”**

“_He asked me not to. I think he’s just worried that you’re going to overthink everything like you’re prone to do.”_

“**Not fair.”**

“_But true.”_

She huffed silently and felt his corresponding mirth as she could sense him laughing at her pique.

“**Can I trust his word?”**

There was a momentary pause and then Theo replied silently,_ “I think Adrian cares for you a great deal. He’s always had a bit of a thing for you, if I’m honest. I wasn’t surprised when he decided to pursue you when your heritage became known. It gave him the chance he’s always wanted.”_

Another brief silence and then Hermione said:

“**Okay.”**

“_You good?”_

“**Yes, thank you, Theo.”**

Hermione broke the connection and watched as Theo’s gaze cleared and he winked at her.

Her answering smile was bright and genuine.

Harry nudged her shoulder with his and then gestured to the letter, which she handed over with a sigh of exasperation.

It was a minute later he handed it back to her and said, “He seems genuine.”

“He does.”

“You going to see him Saturday?”

“If I say yes, are you going to play chaperone?”

“Nah, I have prefect patrols in Hogsmeade during the morning since Malfoy commandeered the Pitch, but I’m sure Theo will be happy to be your chaperone for the day.”

“Prat.”

“Sure, Sis. Keep telling yourself that.”

Hermione took her last sip of tea, stood up—placed a kiss on top of Harry’s head earning a grin—picked up her book bag and made her way to Potions.

As she was walking down to the dungeons, she heard footsteps from coming up from behind her.

She sent out her senses and felt that there were three people..._witches_. 

She could smell their perfume and as she rounded the corner to head down to the dungeons—she sent out her mind and could hear enough to know that whatever they had planned wasn’t going to bode well for any of them.

She fortified her shields and then called out for Theo and Harry silently—warning them when the first of three spells hit her shield.

Turning around she smirked at the three witches standing there—all with their wands raised at her.

It was their expressions that were humorous.

“Did you three really expect that was going to work against _me?”_

Pansy sneered, while Marietta’s wand hand wavered.

It was Olivia Shardlow’s scowl though, that made Hermione laugh.

“I suppose it’s my turn, yes?”

Hermione held out her left hand and silently disarmed all the witches simultaneously. With her right one, she turned their hair different shades of colors as well as their skin.

Their screams were rather funny.

When Theo and Harry came running around the corner wands raised...followed by Malfoy, Ron and Zabini—the stunned looks on all their faces was priceless.

Then Professor Snape sauntered into view.

“I would ask what is going on here, but perhaps I don’t need to?”

Hermione walked over to her Defense teacher and handed him the other witches wands.

“They attacked _first_. Pansy cast a freezing charm, Marietta a reducto and Olivia a severing charm.”

Professor Snape’s eyes widened as he took the three wands and stared down at them and then at her.

“_Simultaneously?”_

“Yes.”

“I see.” He drawled and then turned the full force of his stare at the three witches—who were all whimpering and cowering away from his wrath. “And your spells.”

“Oh, it was just something I thought of in the moment. Thought it might look good on them. Pansy looks rather fetching with chartreuse skin with black polka dots and yellow hair. Although the orange and yellow stripes on Shardlow, are my personal favorite.”

“And Miss Edgecombe?”

“Oh, those are just a continuation of a little parting gift I left her with last year. It spells out ‘_sneak_’ all over her body instead of just on her forehead. I’m afraid the scarring can’t be removed by anyone but me.”

Several guffaws and chortles were heard as a few other students walked down the corridor on their way to the dungeons. 

When Daphne Greengrass walked around the corner with her sister, she bowled in laughter.

“Oh this is _brilliant!!_ Well done, Prewett! I don’t think I’ve ever seen Pansy look better then at this precise moment.”

“Fuck off, Daphne!”

“Twenty points from Slytherin for use of foul language and another fifty for sheer stupidity. Fifty points from Ravenclaw as well.”

“_**What?!?”**_ Pansy screamed. “Professor? Aren’t you going to take points from Gryffindor? Where is your loyalty?”

Snape just stared at the young witch, before he spoke in his most annoyed drawl.

“I would hope that those within my own house would not be _imbecilic_ enough to attack another student three to one...especially someone of Miss Prewett’s magical capabilities. The fact that the three of you showed such poor judgement—I find myself quite disinclined to pander to your overwhelming idiocy. Therefore, all three of you will be referred to the Headmaster for disciplinary action immediately. If you will follow me.”

Hermione smirked as she watched the little entourage of witches follow Professor Snape up to Dumbledore’s office. When they were gone, Harry ran over and started waving his wand...checking to make sure she was fine.

“I’m okay, Harry.”

He just nodded and pulled her into a fierce hug.

She returned the hug and then pulled back.

She smiled at the relief she saw in Harry’s eyes.

“Did they really cast at the same time?”

“They did.”

“And your shield held?”

Hermione chuckled and nodded. “Harry, I’ve faced worse.”

Harry grinned and nodded, deciding to let it go for now. Ron came over and gave her a once over, nodding to himself and his relief was obvious too.

But it was Theo’s reaction that surprised her the most.

He looked _pissed_.

“Theo?”

The Nott Heir just glared at her and knowing him as she was beginning to, she went over and took his hand and led him into the same empty classroom that Malfoy had taken them to earlier in the month.

She closed the door and warded it.

“What?”

He stared at her for a moment before heaving out a shaking breath. She could see how upset he was so she came over and cupped his cheeks into her hands.

“I am _fine_. I heard them coming and I could hear them thinking. Their mental barriers aren’t very sophisticated. I was in no danger.”

Theo swallowed and nodded as his deep blue eyes stared into her own.

Then he pulled her into his embrace and hugged her.

Hermione smiled happily, as she returned the affection.

When Theo pulled back after a couple minutes his face was subdued and she could tell how hard this was for him.

He didn’t have a lot of family.

“I nearly lost it when I heard you in my head. I ran out of the Great Hall with Potter at my heels.”

“I’m okay. I know you’ve only seen bits and pieces of my powers, Theo...but trust me when I tell you that there is no way they could’ve hurt me.”

“I know it theoretically, Hermione, but logically?”

“It’s hard to wrap your mind around?”

Theo nodded.

“If I could show you? Would it make you feel better?”

“What do you mean?”

“If you could see for yourself...that night at the Department of Mysteries?”

Theo took a step back completely stunned. Then his eyes filled with wonder.

“You’d trust me enough to show me that?”

“We are family, aren’t we?”

Theo just nodded, his voice not working at the moment.

Hermione just smiled at her cousin, who next to Harry was in more dire need of family than anyone she’d ever known.

“We need to get to class, but tonight after the party we will head up to the Astronomy Tower and I will show you, deal?”

Theo sighed in acquiescence. “Deal.”

“Good, now lets get to class.”

Theo offered his arm, which Hermione took with alacrity and together they left the room once Hermione had dropped the wards.

When they walked out—Harry was waiting for them as was Malfoy and Zabini.

“Did Ron leave for class?”

Harry nodded. “Everything good?”

“Yes, Harry. We should get to class too.”

Together they walked into Slughorn’s classroom, the jovial Professor welcoming them in with a wave.

“Please take your seats. We will be starting here shortly but I wanted to make a quick announcement.” Slughorn grabbed a sheet of parchment from the front of his desk and looked down at it nodding and to himself as he made a few adjustments—then he chuffed as if he was particularly happy with whatever it was before he addressed the class.

“This year in NEWT potions, it is important to prepare you not only for potion making but also for potion theory. For those of you who may go into Auror training or Healer training, learning how to brew potions is as important as identifying them and what symptoms a witch or wizard may present with when on a certain potion. As a consequence, you will have to learn how to brew a proper antidote and the mechanisms involved as such. As we know a bezoar is a curative for most common poisons and is a primary source ingredient for most antidotes. Therefore, you will in the course of this class be given a poison. You will have to identify it and then come up with a proper antidote for it. I would normally have students work individually, but for this class I will be breaking you up in pairs and will be posting it next class period.”

He then waddled to the front of the class to discuss the potion they were going to be brewing for class that day.

“Today’s potion is a treat. We will be making an Everlasting Elixir. Can anyone tell me what the some of the useful properties of these potions are?”

Hermione raised her hand and Slughorn nodded at her.

“Everlasting Elixirs are the type of potion that have the benefit of never running out or alternatively, working indefinitely. As an elixir by definition, it would be sweet and aromatic.”

“Very good, Miss Prewett, take five points for Gryffindor.” Slughorn clapped in glee. “Now, it will be important to do well of this assignment as you will also be writing a thirty inch essay due next class on Everlasting Elixirs, their properties, uses and the property and history of the charms used in the making of these potions. Now please check on page 31 of your textbooks and begin brewing!”

Harry started setting up their cauldrons, while Hermione went into the potions storage room to get the ingredients. When she got there she noticed the sophorous beans and shrivelfigs were located on the top shelf.

She went to reach for them when she felt a presence at her back and a pale hand pulled the jars down and handed one to her.

Looking up over her shoulder, grey eyes were glinting at her in amusement.

“Nice work today, Prewett.”

Hermione’s face pulled down in confusion before it cleared and she grinned.

“Shouldn’t you be sticking up for your housemates, Malfoy?”

The blonde just chuckled and shook his head. “I might be a bit of a prat, Prewett, but I’m not an imbecile.”

“Might?”

Draco sighed as he counted out his sophorous beans and placed them in his jar, closing the lid.

“Touché.” He sighed and gave her a considering look as he said, “I never did get the chance to properly apologize for my less than stellar behavior at my Mother’s garden party this past summer. I’d realized after you walked away—that I had been out of line and I never should’ve allowed Pansy to disrespect you or Potter, especially in my home—and for that, I’m _sorry_.”

Hermione just stood there in shock.

_Did Draco Malfoy just apologize to her?_

She sighed and shook her head, feeling like perhaps this rare moment might seek to forge a new start for the two of them.

“Well, apology accepted. I suppose in that spirit I have my own apology to offer.”

His look of confusion was rather endearing and was another surprise.

“What for?”

“Adrian called out my behavior that day back in our second year. When I assumed that your Father...”

“Ah!” Draco put his hand up in understanding. “Say no more. Neither one of us was at our best that day, Prewett. I said something to you in my anger that I couldn’t take back and then I compounded upon it for years afterwards. I can’t undo the past, but you have my word I won’t use that word again.”

“I know. Theo told me how you put Slytherin House on notice.” She didn’t look at him as she counted out her shrivelfigs and placed them into her silver cauldron.

“I’m not surprised.” Draco admitted as he placed the jars back on the shelf and followed her out of the potions closet. “For what it’s worth, you’ve given Theo family and while he and I have never been very close—I know how much family means to him. It’s good he has you in his life.”

Hermione’s expression softened and she nodded. “Theo has been a godsend for me as well. I don’t think I could’ve gotten through all this nonsense without him.”

Draco smirked. “Don’t let your Grandmother hear you calling her traditions nonsense, Prewett. Even I’m scared of Lady Prewett.”

“Really?” She whispered conspiratorially.

“_Most definitely._ Next to my Mother, Lady Prewett is not to be trifled with.”

“I’ll mention to her you said so.”

“Do.” Draco winked and moved gracefully back to his seat where Blaise was writing down instructions and setting up their workstation.

By the end of the class Hermione had brewed an acceptable elixir, but once again—Malfoy’s potion was the best.

“Mr. Malfoy I must commend you on your potion today. And what is that I smell? Is that peppermint?”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Inspired! Peppermint has the added benefit of stabilizing the more dubious side effects of the cheering charm as well as the nose tweaking that can be inherently problematic with this particular elixir. Take ten points for Slytherin.”

Draco nodded, and when he looked up—he caught Prewett’s gaze and she rolled her eyes playfully at him—which earned her his best smirk.

When Slughorn got to her cauldron, he nodded—pleased.

“Well done, Miss Prewett! Nice shade and consistency. Take five points for Gryffindor and perhaps you, Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy could stay back for a moment after class?”

Hermione nodded as she watched from the corner of her eye as Slughorn passed Harry’s cauldron, hummed almost disappointingly and moved along.

When clean up was done and the class dismissed, Hermione made her way to the front of the class with Harry.

Malfoy was propped up against his table, looking for all the world—bored.

“Ah, yes...now!” Slughorn clapped his meaty hands together and smiled. “Thank you for staying, as I wanted to take this opportunity to invite all three of you to my offices next Saturday evening for a little dinner party. When I was at Hogwarts prior I used to have these get together’s once a month for my brightest student’s and it was a chance for them to meet and greet those in positions within different fields of interest. For example, Saturday next we will be joined by Miss Gwenog Jones of the Holyhead Harpies, Mr. Gawain Robards from the Department of Magical Law and Miss Jezebel Brickard, Deputy Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.”

Draco lifted an eyebrow at the notable guest list, while Harry beamed at the fact that two of the guests would be people he’d very much like to meet under any circumstance.

Hermione just smiled politely and said, “Harry and I would be honored to attend, Sir.”

“As would I, Professor.” Draco drawled and Slughorn clapped his hands again and beamed.

“Well met! I will see you three in my offices at six pm Saturday next! Now, here’s a note to take to your next class so you won’t be called on for being tardy. Good work today.”

Slughorn shoo’d them out of his office...leaving Harry and Hermione feeling a bit bemused.

“What was that about?”

“It’s called the Slug Club, Potter.” Draco offered, as he fell in step with them.

They were all heading to NEWT Charms anyway.

“Really?” Harry grinned. “Slug Club?”

Draco chuckled and nodded. “Yes. Apparently Professor Slughorn likes to collect students into his little soirées every year. It’s a good way to make connections as you can see—and he fancies himself a kind of taskmaster for making introductions and as a consequence—having witches and wizards owing him favors. The man for all his posturing, is fairly well thought of...and he doesn’t discriminate.”

“What do you mean.”

“Well, from what I’ve been told, Potter...your Mother was one of his _favorites_, back in the day.”

Harry and Hermione stopped cold and stared at the blonde Slytherin.

“And how would you know that, Malfoy?” Harry’s voice was hard, and Draco scoffed.

“My Godfather, Potter.”

Harry’s face registered momentary surprise as he said, “Professor Snape told you about my Mother?”

“He did. Not much though. Just that they grew up together and were friends.”

Harry nodded as he did remember a few things from his ill-fated and short-lived Occlumency classes last year when he’d breached Severus mind. 

He’d seen his Father in those memories and his Mother too.

It was enough for him to know that Snape had conflicted memories surrounding his parents.

“Thanks for the info.”

Draco just shrugged as they headed into their class on the third floor. Potter entered first and as he held the door open, Hermione moved by him entering the classroom and he took the opportunity to whisper so only she could hear him— “Happy Birthday.”

She turned her head up startled and caught him smirking down at her again—before he sauntered confidently away and went to sit with Zabini—who had saved Malfoy his usual spot.

Hermione followed Harry, who sat next to Ron while Hermione took her spot next to Theo.

Seeing his cousin’s flushed expression, Theo leant over and said lowly, “You alright?”

She just nodded once, unsure how much more of this new and improved Draco Malfoy—she could take all at once.

The rest of the day went without incident and after dinner, the entirety of the Gryffindor Common Room was under siege by birthday decorations, butter beer, cookies, cakes and Honeydukes candies as everyone chattered and had a good time.

Fred and George snuck into the castle for the occasion and were handing out some of their new wares to unsuspecting first years. When Hermione saw a Fred try and give Sally a fever fudge, she sent a stinging jinx to his arse.

His scream of ‘_Hey!’ _was fairly amusing.

“Fred Weasley!” Hermione accio’d the contraband and waved it at his face menacingly. “You leave the first years alone!”

“But, Mione!”

“No!”

Sally giggled while Fred just pouted and left to another part of the common room, properly chastised.

“They’re funny.” Sally piped up and Hermione just scowled.

“Do not ever take anything anyone gives you without checking with me, alright? And definitely not anything Fred and George might try and ply you with.”

“Okay.” Sally agreed readily as one of her bunk mates pulled her away to play a game of exploding snap.

Hermione smiled at the little witch fondly, not noticing Theo come up behind her until he held a package in front of her face.

“Happy Birthday.”

“Oh!” Hermione took the gift and smiled. “Can I open it now?”

Theo nodded so Hermione didn’t waste the moment and opened the pretty silver wrapped package.

Then she gasped at what was inside. Staring at the small silver basin, she just shook her head in wonder.

“Where did you get this?”

“It was my Mother’s...belonged to her Father. The Nott Family has one already, but this was in my Mother’s vault. My Father sent it to me. It’s from the both of us. Aunt Muriel mentioned that Mrs. Weasley would be sending you some memories and he felt you might like to have this.”

Hermione wiped a lone tear from her eye as she nodded. “That’s very generous of both you and your Father. I will write him a thank you note tomorrow.” Hermione wrapped an arm around Theo’s waist and gave him a half-hug, which he returned a bit awkwardly. “Thank you too, Theo.”

“I’m glad you like it.”

Looking around, Hermione noticed the party was still in full swing and she had promised Theo that she would show him her memories.

“Come on, lets head up to the Astronomy Tower before curfew.”

Theo nodded and together they made their way to the entrance of the Tower and headed up. When they got to the top, Hermione walked into the large parapet and immediately warded the area before she sat down on the steps facing the Black Lake.

“So, how do you want to do this?” Theo asked as he sat down next to her.

“I could pull the memory and you could watch it in the pensieve which might be easier than trying to link my mind with yours and trying to showing you. I haven’t attempted a direct link memory regression yet and I’d rather not do it unless I know I’m not going to hurt you.”

Theo swallowed heavily and nodded. “That would be preferable.”

They both laughed as Hermione pulled out the gift and enlarged it before closing her eyes and gripping the bowl in the hands. She then released it and it levitated in front of her as she took her right index finger and pressed it to her temple. Then Theo watched in amazement as she pulled her fingertip away from her head and a wispy silvery substance followed.

She immediately put it into the bowl.

Before Theo placed his head inside the basin, his cousin set a hand upon his arm to get his attention.

“I’m not going to make you take a vow because I trust you, Theo but I will ask you not share this with anyone under any circumstances without discussing it with me first.”

Theo nodded and promised.

He then stuck his head into the basin and was transported back to that fateful night and watched in astonishment, awe and fear at everything that transpired from the time his cousin broke through the wards of the Ministry atrium, to her transformation and death of the Dark Lord.

When he came back to himself, he sat there white-faced and speechless. His deep blue eyes staring at his cousin with reverence.

“You killed the Dark Lord.” He finally gritted out and Hermione nodded.

“I did.”

“Your _powers?”_

“I know. It’s a lot for me to process as well.”

“How have you not?”

“I don’t know honestly. I can’t explain it either but my magic is constantly changing. Everyday something new happens. I’m becoming more aware of others, their thoughts...feelings...Magic. But there are some, I still can’t sense at all. It’s strange actually.”

“Like whom?”

“Professor Snape...Dumbledore. I think it’s because they can shield their thoughts and emotions with Occlumency so well. Even Malfoy is nearly impossible to read. I can’t sense his thoughts at all and his emotions seem to be very well controlled. You’re not an easy one to get a grasp on either Theo, but I’m still learning and my magic is still growing I think. Maybe in time that will change too?”

“Merlin!” Theo whispered in awe. “And your other powers?”

“My telekinetic gifts are growing as well.” 

She stood up and walked over the rampart railing and stepped out into the night sky and then held her hand out for him. Theo just stared at her like she was barmy.

“It’s safe silly. I promise.”

Theo nodded and climbed over to join Hermione and then she offered her left hand which he took with his right one. When she stepped off into the air he made a little yelped sound as she pulled him with her but then...

They were both walking out into the night and Theo laughed as he looked down the hundred or so meters below with a huge grin upon his face.

“Amazing.” He breathed out in wonder. Hermione winked and then quickly, he found himself standing alone back on the parapet staring at his cousin, who was about 100 meters away.

“How did you do that?”

“It’s apparition—just different. Almost like teleportation...soundless.”

“And the wards around Hogwarts.”

Hermione laughed and turned around, waved her hand and Theo jumped back as he took in the kaleidoscope of colors surrounding the grounds.

“Are those what I think they are?”

“Yes,” Hermione grinned playfully, “the wards of Hogwarts.”

“Can you bring them down?”

She winked but didn’t reply, and Theo blew out a hissed breath as he stared at the majesty of the protective barriers surrounding their school.

Suddenly there was a cry, and Hermione looked to the east and saw a red speck flying towards her. A few moments later she smiled when she noticed Fawkes, Dumbledore’s familiar—circling around her...it’s Phoenix cry echoing into the night.

She expanded her aura out and felt the flames erupting along her body—from her hair down to her feet as Theo watched mesmerized. Fawkes cry reverberated, as he continued to circle Hermione in the sky and if Theo had to guess—the bird was communicating something.

And that was when he heard Hermione’s voice inside his head.

“_Theo...”_

“Hermione.” Theo’s voice carried into the night, knowing she’d hear him.

“_Want to see something cool?”_

Theo chuckled. “You mean cooler than this?”

“_Yep_.”

“Okay.”

Hermione waved her hand and Theo felt some kind of additional protective barrier surround the parapet and he had to wonder just what else she’d done when he saw Hermione pull her arms out and with a crackling force like he’d seen in the pensieve just a few moments ago—her aura exploded.

And he stumbled back in awe as he heard her scream the cry of the Phoenix.

And then just as suddenly she was gone and sitting perched on the parapet was Fawkes, but he wasn’t alone. There was another Phoenix next to him—brightly colored with a rich plume of orange, reds and yellow staring at him with iced blue eyes.

Theo moved over and held his hand out and the bird nuzzled into it—causing him to laugh. Then the bird’s head turned quickly and eyed a spot on the far wall and cawed.

When Theo looked over his shoulder, a disillusionment spell dropped and there stood Draco, his face ashen and pale.

The grey eyes of his house mate held his and Theo noticed Draco immediately put his hands up in supplication.

“I was here first, and I disillusioned myself when I heard the both you come up. I tried to leave but Prewett must’ve warded the parapet.”

Hermione in Phoenix form—cawed again, like she was chastising Draco—her feathers ruffled and irritated.

“Perhaps you should obliviate him, cousin.” Theo smirked and Draco just growled.

“I am able to keep a secret, Theo and I didn’t intrude on purpose—but if Prewett requires a vow, I’m happy to take one.”

Hermione in Phoenix form just tilted her head at the blonde wizard and flew over to where he was standing and repositioned herself on the rampart behind him.

It was strange being in this form, thought Hermione. She could see so much more of everything around her. She could see Theo’s aura and Draco’s too. It was how she’d known he was there...even through the disillusionment charm. Where Theo’s aura was mostly made up of blues and greens...Draco’s aura was different.

It was absolutely mesmerizing.

There were all different colors of the spectrum as they swirled around his body and she could taste his magic on the tip of her tongue.

It was odd and she didn’t give it much more thought, as she noticed the wizard put his hand out in her direction—so she nipped at it.

His shocked yell, caused Theo to laugh.

“So deserved that.”

“Whatever.” Draco took his wand and healed the wound, giving Prewett a look filled with amused irritation. “_Vicious witch.”_

The resounding cries of both Phoenixes pulled Draco up short for a moment, and then in a flash... both were gone.

He and Theo ran to the rampart to look out over the Black Lake, but there was nothing.

No sign of Fawkes or Hermione anywhere.

“Where did she go?” Draco demanded, while Theo shrugged.

“I have no idea.” Then he turned to face his fellow Slytherin and gave him a disgusted shake of the head before he went to grab the pensieve and placed it back into the box. He conjured a vial and deposited Hermione’s memory into it—sealing and warding it before packing it into his pocket.

Draco couldn’t help but notice the silvery memory. 

He was fairly certain he knew just what memory Hermione had shared with Theo.

“She showed you her initial transformation, didn’t she?”

Theo didn’t reply as he put the shrunken pensieve in his robes.

“Look, mate, I know we haven’t been the best of friends, but I do know more than you think. My Father took an unbreakable vow to make sure that your Father and the other Death Eaters who weren’t tasked to be at the Ministry that night were spared reprisal by the Ministry and Dumbledore. I’d guessed on my own that Prewett had been the one to kill the Dark Lord, as there could’ve been absolutely no possibility of Potter doing the deed. I just had no idea how powerful she was and is,” Draco shook his head in wonder, “and I have no reason to speak of it to anyone, Theo.”

“And I’m just supposed to trust you, Draco? Hermione is supposed to _trust you?”_

Draco sighed and then shook his head in defeat. “I suppose not. Go ahead then. Modify my memory. I won’t protest it at all, if you seem to think I can’t be trusted.”

Theo gaped at Draco in surprise.

“You’d really be okay with that?”

Draco just sighed and nodded. 

Inwardly he knew he wasn’t alright with the fact, but it couldn’t be helped. Perhaps this might serve to gain him a measure of both their trust.

Theo pulled out his wand and held it aloft at the other wizard before he thought about what memory he needed to modify and then went to cast the spell, when Hermione’s voice inside his head stopped him.

“No, Theo. Not like this.”

Theo lowered his wand and then they both felt the wards around the parapet drop before Hermione was standing in front of them again in her human form—her expression contemplative but not exactly warm. She walked up to Draco and tilted her face up to his before she placed her hands on his face, locked eyes and silently asked him to bring the memory forward...which he did with ease.

She was surprised with how well organized Malfoy’s mind was...it was logical, constructive and highly ordered. There weren’t typical barriers one would associate with Occlumency...there was only a single white door. Curious, Hermione went to open it and she found another door...then another...then another.

Suddenly she heard a chuckle inside her head.

“Not nice, Princess. You shouldn’t go barging around in places you’re not invited to.”

“And you shouldn’t eavesdrop on conversations, you have no part in.”

“Touché, but I didn’t do it on purpose. Honest. Next time, however—try casting a _hominem revelio _when you find yourself out here, or on another balcony somewhere.”

He could feel her sudden surprised embarrassment and then anger as he silently felt her presence shift within his mind. The memory of this night was still at the forefront of his consciousness—waiting for her to take it or not.

So he decided to offer the choice to her. The thought that she didn’t trust him and probably wouldn’t ever—made his heart hurt, but there was nothing for it. He organized the memory as Severus had taught him and then silently whispered to her...”

”Shall you do it or shall I?”

“What do you mean?”

In Draco’s mind a small simple pewter box appeared and opened and Hermione watched as the memory molded into a coalescence and then she observed awed as the wisp floated into the box.

Then a key appeared.

“All you have to do is close the box, Prewett. Lock it and vanish the key.”

“Malfoy, that’s not possible.”

“It is. You just have to remember where you vanished the key to. The memory will stay in the box.”

“And you won’t remember?” 

She didn’t know _why_ but there was a part of her that felt uncomfortable with the idea, but she immediately pushed that feeling aside in favor of the logical part of her brain that didn’t exactly trust this particular wizard.

“No.” 

His voice inside her head was resigned—and there was an edge to it she didn’t understand but after a few seconds, Hermione closed the box and locked it—vanishing the key into her favorite book inside the Hogwarts library. When that was done she removed herself from Malfoy’s mind—her senses picking up something different...empty...as she broke the link and took a step back simultaneously waving her hand and froze Malfoy before placing him back where she’d found him—then taking Theo’s hand and teleporting them both silently out of the Astronomy Tower.

When Draco came to a few seconds later—he looked around in confusion, sure he’d heard a noise coming from the staircase but a quick revealing charm showed that no one was there.

Very strange.

Shrugging, he made his way down the staircase and back towards the Slytherin Common Room, unaware of Hermione’s bright blue eyes following his progress as he passed by the Gryffindor common room.

An uneasy expression plastered upon her face.


	35. Misplaced Guilt?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione starts to second guess her decisions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers...another chapter here for you! Thanks for all the love! And keep an open mind for a bit at Draco’s actions..it will be explained soon!

Saturday morning was bright and sunny, and Hermione groaned as she rolled over in bed—trying to burrow herself under her covers for a few more precious minutes of sleep.

She hadn’t slept much the past two nights, her mind reluctant to shut off and stop overthinking her decision to lock away that damn memory in Malfoy’s subconscious. His voice inside her head at the beginning of their silent exchange had been amused and playful but at the end—it lacked emotion.

He’d sounded resigned.

_Distant_.

Hermione knew she didn’t need to feel guilty about her decision.

Draco Malfoy was not part of the equation that was her life.

She had Harry and Theo and Adrian...whom she was excited to see today!

Deciding to let it go for now, she went to get ready for the day.

When she got near the Great Hall—she noticed Parkinson walking in with Shardlow and Edgecombe. All three of them giving her icy stares, while Hermione just smirked at them. All three witches got dentition with their respective Head’s of Houses for the remainder of term every Saturday and a Sunday evening for two hours. Dumbledore had Minerva come to her for the counter-jinx—which she’d been reluctant to do but hadn’t wanted to get points taken away for Gryffindor House.

All three girls were essential back to normal, except for Marietta’s scar on her forehead. Hermione had refused to lift that hex as it had nothing to do with the incident in question.

Dumbledore had given some kind of speech about tolerance and some other such rubbish and when he was done, she had politely informed his he could take it up with her Grandmother if he was so inclined.

Her Grandmother, having been informed of the incident had sent letters to all three witch’s families and Hermione could only imagine what the fall-out from that was going to be.

As she made her way inside...breakfast was in full swing and looking around—her gaze caught on Theo’s, who smiled and nodded. 

When her eyes landed on Malfoy, he glanced up at her with a blank stare and then went back to his breakfast.

That was odd?

Shrugging, she made her way to the Gryffindor table and sat down next to Harry.

“Hey.” Harry greeted with a soft smile until her got a closer look at his sister. “You’re looking a bit tired. Sleeping okay?”

Hermione nodded. She hadn’t told Harry about the other night, as she didn’t want to get any grief from him and knowing Harry as she did, he might try and confront Malfoy—which wouldn’t be a good idea since the Slytherin had no memory of the previous nights exploits.

“What are you doing today?” She asked.

“Ron and I are going to the pitch after I do my Hogsmeade rounds this morning. You get Theo to hang out today?”

“It’ll be fine, Harry.”

Her brother nodded and let the topic drop as he finished his breakfast, so she did the same. When she was finished, Hermione made her way over to the Slytherin table which she’d never done previously but figured it would be easier to catch Theo before she headed back upstairs to grab a few things.

“Hey, Theo.”

“Hey, Hermione, what’s up?”

Hermione’s eye caught Blaise’s, who nodded in greeting while Malfoy just ignored her presence all together.

He was talking with some witch she wasn’t familiar with.

“I’m meeting Adrian this morning at Hogsmeade around eleven at the Three Broomsticks. Harry is doing patrols.”

“Okay. I’ll walk you down—just meet me in the courtyard in about an hour.”

“Sure.” She smiled and left, unsure why she was feeling so uncomfortable all of a sudden.

That feeling persisted throughout the morning and when she and Theo finally made their way down to Hogsmeade and the Three Broomsticks—Adrian was waiting for her with a bouquet of flowers and a large grin on his face.

“There you are, little witch.” He sauntered over and reached for her hand, placing a heated kiss on the back of her knuckles while his eyes raked over her outfit with appreciation.

She had chosen to wear a tartan skirt that just fell to her knee caps. The colors of dark brown, tan and creme—offset her creme colored fitted sweater with a scoop neckline and bell sleeves. Her stockings were a creme silk with garters and a matching bra that was fairly demure. Her dragonhide boots were simple buckled two inch knee length, that were also dark brown.

She had pulled her hair back into a long low ponytail and her makeup was simple, but minimal.

Adrian was wearing casual dress robes, charcoal slacks and a white fitted shirt under a crew neck deep evergreen sweater. His dragonhide shoes were polished perfectly and his hair was windswept causally. He made effortless cool look chic without trying too hard.

“Hello, Adrian.”

Her wizard handed over the flowers and nodded the Theo.

“How’s school going, Theo?”

“Good.” Her cousin grinned. “So far, it’s been fairly straightforward.”

“That’s always a good thing.” Adrian clapped his friend on the shoulder. “I thought we’d hit up Honeydukes and then perhaps Scrivenshafts. There’s a new bookstore just opened on the far side of High Street just down the way from Tomes and Scrolls.”

“Really?” Hermione eyes gleamed with interest and Adrian smiled.

“Yes. Perhaps we could have lunch first though, before I lose you for a few hours?”

Hermione blushed, while Theo chuckled knowingly.

“You’re a brave wizard, mate. Going into a bookstore with Hermione? You might never find her again!”

Hermione just glared at her cousin before smirking and sending a wandless stinging jinx his way.

Theo yelped, then rubbed his backside with a petulant scowl.

“_Impressive_.” Adrian chuckled as he took Hermione’s arm into his. “I have your gift in my robes and I will give it to you a bit later. I’m afraid if I give it to you now, I’ll miss my chance of spending a few hours in your company today.”

Hermione lifted an intrigued eyebrow and said, “Is it a book?”

Adrian just leant down and kissed the tip of her nose affectionately and winked...but didn’t answer the question.

_Sneaky Slytherin._

They did make it into Honeydukes and browsed the aisles, Adrian asking what her favorites were. Hermione picked out a few things: sugar quills, ice mice and fizzing whizzbees while Adrian grabbed a couple pumpkin pasties and a cauldron cake.

When they got to Scrivenshafts, Hermione browsed some of the new journals they had. One was a very nice leather bound, with the Gryffindor crest on it. Adrian teased her about it and then handed her a Slytherin one which caused them both to snicker at how even in a stationary store, the separation of Houses was still a very real thing.

Theo just followed and watched his cousin with Adrian and he had to admit—they looked good together.

It was clear that Adrian was besotted with Hermione—while she was flattered by his interest, and attracted to his intelligence and good looks.

But there was something missing that Theo couldn’t quite put his finger on.

So he followed them and observed quietly and when it was time for lunch, he excused himself so could have a few moments alone together.

“Theo really seems to have genuinely found a place with you.” Adrian said as he watched his fellow Slytherin go over to where Harry and Ron were sitting with Ginny, Dean and Seamus.

It wasn’t too long later that Luna came and joined them.

“Yes,” Hermione admitted with a soft smile, “he seems to smile more and in general is happier, I think.”

“That’s good. Theo has always been a bit of a loner—which is strange for being an Heir to a Sacred 28 House, but his Father doesn’t seem to be too concerned about finding Theo a betrothal.”

“I just think that’s so odd.”

Adrian pulled her a bit closer to his side as he placed a sweet kiss to her temple.

“Love, I know all this is a bit odd for you.”

Hermione melted into Adrian’s side as she linked her hand with his under the table.

“I suppose that’s true.” She hummed as Adrian gently caressed her fingers in and out with his own. “But oddly enough, I’d be lying if I didn’t say that there has been some unexpectedly positive things that have happened too.”

“Such as?”

Hermione’s gaze wandered for a second as she noticed Malfoy walking into the the pub with a witch on his arm. Her expression faltered for a second as she recognized the witch as the same one he’d been talking to this morning.

“Who’s that?”

Adrian looked over and followed Hermione’s gaze to the entrance and he chuckled.

“That’s Therese Rowle. She’s a seventh year Slytherin.”

“Isn’t Thorfinn Rowle her brother?” Hermione’s mouth thinned into a grimace at the thought of the burly Slytherin who had tormented her quite a bit her first year and his seventh.

“Yes, younger sister. I didn’t know that she and Draco were seeing each other?”

Neither did she—and as she watched Draco move across the room with the leggy blonde who had piercing blue eyes and a figure to die for—she couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable.

“They look good together.” Adrian mused, as he caught Malfoy’s eye and the younger wizard lifted his chin in greeting before heading their way.

Hermione inwardly groaned at Malfoy’s approach, while another part of her eyed the other witch and felt herself severely lacking as a result.

Those breasts _couldn’t be real? _

Could they?

Shaking her head, she turned her face towards Adrian and waited for the banal pleasantries to pass so she could get back to her date.

“Adrian.” Malfoy drawled.

“Hey, Draco. How have you been?”

“Good.” Draco smirked at his mate but when his eyes landed on Hermione, his expression closed off completely. “You remember Therese?”

“I do.” Adrian stood up and greeted his former classmate. “How have you been?”

“Very well.” The blonde witch purred in her throaty, sexy voice that made Hermione want to groan.

_There was no way that was her normal voice!_

The blonde Slytherin witch looked down her nose at her, and Hermione just stared back mutinously.

“I had heard you and the Prewett Heiress were seeing each other.” Therese patted Draco’s arm and then rubbed her hand along it.

“Hermione and I have been seeing each other since summer, which you would’ve known had you not been away all season. But please allow me to formally introduce you both. Hermione Prewett this is Therese Rowle. Her brother Thorfinn plays Quidditch for the English team. I do believe that was where you were all summer?”

“Yes.” She smiled at Adrian genuinely, before her blue eyes locked with Hermione’s. “I do believe my brother might’ve mentioned you once or twice some years ago, Miss Prewett. Of course, you went by _another_ name at that time.”

The older witch’s smirk was clearly meant to infer exactly what kind of name that was.

Hermione noticed Draco stiffen as he gently placed a warning hand over the blonde witch’s own, and Hermione noticed the Slytherin witch bow her head slightly at the silent reprimand.

“If you’ll both excuse us? I promised Therese lunch.”

“Of course.” Adrian’s friendly demeanor was a bit less so, as he nodded to his friend and his date. “Good to see you, mate.”

“You too.”

Malfoy then gave Hermione a dismissive nod of his head before moving away with the buxom blonde.

“She’s a _charmer_.” Hermione deadpanned and Adrian snickered.

“Not really, but most of the young wizard’s in Slytherin have tried to court the witch. She’s Sacred 28 so...”

“Her choice of suitors?”

Adrian nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I wouldn’t have pegged Draco as being one though.”

“Why not?”

“Therese is pretty to be sure, but she’s not exactly intelligent. I think ‘_vapid and pretentious’ _was a description that Draco used at one point last year.”

“Then why is he with her?”

Adrian chuckled at Hermione’s confused look and leant down to whisper into her ear suggestively.

“Therese does love a good snog now and then. She’s rather fond of broom closets too.”

Hermione moved her head back sharply with a long look that was not exactly disgusted...more _disdainful_.

“So you’re saying the only reason Malfoy is spending time with her is in the hopes to snog the witch?”

“Normally I’d say yes, but Draco has never been one of those wizard’s. He and Pansy did snog a bit last year, but it wasn’t anything serious.”

“Oh.” 

Now she was confused.

And Hermione definitely didn’t like feeling this confused, about anything regarding Draco Malfoy.

Time to change the subject.

“Do I get my gift now?”

Adrian chuckled at pulled out the package from his robes, enlarging it before handing it to her.

Hermione grinned as she opened the package carefully, her eyes widening in surprise as the gift was revealed to her.

“Oh, Adrian! Where did you get this?”

“Are you familiar with Dirk Cresswell?”

Hermione shook her head in the negative.

“He’s the head of the Goblin Liason Office at the Ministry. He’s also Muggleborn. I started my internship this year for my Magical Law license and I’m working with Dirk. Learning the different laws to do with Gringotts, banking and contracts. Anyway, I told him that we were seeing each other and he recognized the name Hermione Granger immediately. I explained that I wanted to find this book and he was very helpful getting me in contact with a wizard who works with a rare books store in Muggle London. Harrington’s I think...”

“Peter Harrington.”

Adrian nodded. “Yes. I told them what I wanted and they were able to track this down for me. I hope you like it.”

“I _love_ it!” Hermione gazed down in wonder at the first edition of Jane Eyre. It was in fairly good condition too. She couldn’t imagine how many galleons this must have cost.

She leant up and kissed Adrian lightly on the lips and blushed at his pleased smirk.

“_Thank you.”_

“You’re welcome, love.”

Hermione beamed and tilted her head down on Adrian’s shoulder, feeling his lips as he placed a couple gentle kisses on the crown of her head.

Smirking, Hermione waved her hand and erected a privacy charm as well as a silencing spell.

“Kiss me.” She whispered and Adrian’s eyes widened as he looked around but no one was paying them any mind.

“Love, we’re in public.”

“I erected a few charms to keep out the onlookers for a few minutes.”

“Oh?” His grin went from playful to wolfish instantly.

“Oh.” She mimed back and tilted her head up in an unspoken offering, which Adrian didn’t prevaricate about taking advantage of...deepening the kiss almost immediately upon contact.

Gripping her hands into his hair, she felt her body hum nicely as she returned her wizard’s affections.

They stayed like that for several minutes just taking sustenance from each other until Adrian groaned unhappily and pulled back.

“Wicked witch,” his eyes were bright, mouth swollen and hair mussed from how vigorously Hermione had run her fingers through it. “But I’m _not_ complaining.”

Her blush couldn’t be helped as the look Adrian was giving her was positively sinful.

Clearing her throat primly, Hermione did her very best to put them both back to rights before cancelling the privacy spells. 

When she finally gazed up, no one was paying them any mind or looking their way except Malfoy...who’s expression was...

_**Emotionless**_.

Hermione averted her eyes downward and bit her lip and the sickening pit growing in her stomach.

Would she never be able to look at Malfoy again and not feel guilty for what she’d done?

Did it matter, since he’d agreed?

But there was a little voice inside her head that whispered bitterly... _you didn’t give him a choice. Not really. You didn’t even give him a chance to take a vow, or take him at his word. Theo told you that Malfoy was loyal to those who were loyal to him. You’ve seen his mind. There’s no way he could’ve betrayed your secret. You didn’t give him a chance and you’ll have to live with the consequences of that decision._

Consequences?

Shaking her head slightly, Hermione decided she was being ridiculous. 

There was no way she could trust Draco Malfoy after everything he’d done.

**Right?**

Adrian had walked with she and Theo back to the castle later that afternoon and gave her a kiss goodbye, promising to write. She thanked him again for the lovely gift and waved as he walked back down towards Hogsmeade...turning every few steps to give her a wink, or a smile.

When he was finally out of sight, Theo pulled her with him inside the castle and the two of them meandered for a bit before dinner started.

The Great Hall was fairly full of students by the time Hermione took her seat and she was happy to see her friends laughing and joking with each other. Ron seemed particularly pleased.

“Practice is coming along great, Mione. Tryouts are next Saturday afternoon at two. You gonna come and watch like you promised?”

Hermione just smiled and nodded. “I’m happy to come and watch, Ron.”

“You can come watch Weasley and I go head to head...Prewett. I’m sure the _better_ wizard will end up on top.”

Cormac winked at her and Hermione just rolled her eyes while Ron scowled.

“Just ignore him, Ron.” Hermione mumbled lowly. “He’s just trying to get under your skin.”

There was a burst of laughter down the table where Cormac was sitting with a couple other seventh year boys and Katie Bell—who was sitting with Faye Dunbar and Alicia Spinnet.

Katie looked down her way and mimicked Hermione’s expression.

Harry had decided he was going to start from scratch this year and that anyone who wanted to try out could do so. Katie, having been a chaser previously had been fine with it. Ginny was also trying out for a chaser slot and there were a few seventh year Gryffindor boys who had been chomping at the bit to try out for the beater positions now that Fred and George were gone.

“I’ll never understand why you get so worked up about Quidditch.”

Ron snorted, while Harry just grinned at his sister. “You could play, you know?”

The dismayed and disgusted look on Hermione’s face had all within her house—who had heard Harry’s offer, laughing hysterically—while she just folded her arms over her chest and scowled.

“That’s _not funny_, Brother Mine.”

“So is.” He quipped back easily. “How was your date with Adrian?”

Hermione tried her best to tamp down the tell-tale blush that wanted to break free as she replied, “It was lovely, thank you.”

“I’ll bet it was.” Ron grumbled getting an incredulous glare from his cousin and best friend.

“Ignore him.” Ginny piped in, before her eyes narrowed at something across the way. “I’m more intrigued with Malfoy’s new paramour.”

“Huh?” Ron looked over at his sister like she was mad, while Hermione just stared down at her plate refusing to engage in any speculation about Malfoy’s love life.

“Malfoy was at the Three Broomsticks with Therese Rowle. Everyone was gossiping about it this afternoon. Apparently everyone is speculating that they might be courting officially.”

Lavender peeked her head around Ginny to give her two knuts to the discussion.

“Therese was briefly linked to some Drumstrang Wizard this last summer in the Prophet but no one really knows for sure what that was all about. They do appear cozy.”

Hermione tilted her head up and glanced over at the Slytherin table, immediately noticing Malfoy and Rowle’s heads together discussing something. 

The witch was smiling and Malfoy had that infuriating smirk on his face.

That damn pit in her stomach was back, and she grabbed her glass of pumpkin juice to take a fortifying swallow before trying her very best to ignore the remaining chatter going on around her.

It was another month before she started to realize that this unsettled feeling might be more than just misplaced guilt.


	36. Awkward Encounters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco continues to act in a confusing manner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So don’t shoot the messenger...as for Draco, we will find out soon why he’s acting like such a pillock but for now...enjoy the next installment!!!

The next week of classes had been nothing special but Slughorn had decided to pair her up with Theo for their potions work, and Harry was paired with Parkinson so that was interesting.

Malfoy was paired with Katie Bell, and Hermione didn’t know what to make of that either.

He seemed quite friendly to the Gryffindor in class and they actually laughed a couple times, drawing curious stares from the rest of their classmates.

Hermione was beginning to wonder if Harry was on to something when he’d mentioned being caught in the Twilight Zone. 

This all seemed too surreal for her mind to process most days.

Saturday had come fairly quickly, and at two in the afternoon sharp...Hermione was sitting in the Quidditch stands watching the start of the Gryffindor tryouts. The rest of the stands were relatively empty expect for a few of the other teams Quidditch players and captains.

Malfoy was sitting in the Slytherin stands with Zabini, Greengrass and Therese Rowle.

The blonde witch seemed to be everywhere this past week, no matter how much Hermione had tried to ignore her.

She didn’t imagine many witches or wizards ignored Therese Rowle.

When her gaze moved over to the Ravenclaw seats, Hermione saw Cho Chang sitting with a few of her fellow Quidditch Team members and there were even a few from Hufflepuff spying the Gryffindor tryouts. 

Hermione shook her head at how ridiculous it all was.

Harry was down on the pitch trying to get everyone’s attention when Hermione heard Ginny yelling ‘_**Shut it!’**_ loudly and she couldn’t help the giggles that escaped her mouth as she leant over the railing a bit and watched the scene below.

After a bit of scrambling, Ginny and Katie mounted their brooms first followed by Alicia Spinnet and Dean Thomas. Then Ron and Cormac followed each heading to a keeping post on opposite sides of the pitch. Harry then took off on his firebolt and settled himself center pitch to give himself a good birds eyes view of everything. 

He then sent off red sparks from his wand and the tryouts began in earnest.

Hermione watched breathlessly as Ginny and Katie dodged several bludgers being hurled in their direction as they were being chased down by Dean and Alicia. Each side played offense and defense in succession, Ron being the Keeper for Ginny’s team and Cormac for Dean’s side.

The play was fast and furious, with Ron doing his very best to block, catch, kick and punch away any quaffles and bludgers that headed his way. Cormac too, was doing an excellent job of tending his keep so much so, that an hour in both wizard’s hadn’t allowed more than a couple goals to score.

Harry decided to set up the tryouts like a timed version of an actual game. Whomever gave up the least goals in a specific timed period, would earn the spot as the starting Gryffindor keeper.

It came right down to the last minute of play and Hermione’s breath caught as Ron just barely knocked away his final goal-tend...almost losing his balance off his broom.

Her eyes narrowed when she noticed Malfoy and his cronies laughing at her friend while Cormac just looked amused.

At that moment Ginny came streaking down across the pitch and headed for Cormac’s keep, swerving to miss a bludger that hit Dean’s broom, knocking the wizard back. As Ginny went to throw the Quaffle, Hermione’s eyes narrowed again and without even moving a muscle, her mind whispered out the spell _confundus_...and Cormac hesitated just enough that Ginny’s quaffle made it through the center ring with ease.

Hermione smirked briefly in triumph, until she caught Malfoy’s gaze—that was focused directly on her. His own eyes locked with her’s momentarily, before he stood up signaling to his little entourage that they were done, and they followed him down the steps towards the pitch.

When Hermione looked back at Ron, he was smiling widely and everyone was clapping him on the back in congratulations.

Cormac just seemed stunned and defeated.

_Git deserved it,_ thought Hermione happily as she went down to congratulate her best friend on his new position as Gryffindor Keeper.

Hermione looked over the edge and grinned...waving at her friend’s, who were smiling and waving up at her.

When she noticed Malfoy on the ground with his classmates, she smirked and then launched herself over the stands and into the air...the screams of her friend’s caught the attention of everyone...including the Slytherins...who’s own expressions were utterly gobsmacked.

Harry however, just shook his head and laughed at how utterly ludicrous she was.

As Hermione floated to the ground, Harry and Ron rushed over to her.

“Show off.” Ron muttered, but his expression was clearly amused as he walked over and nudged her playfully.

“That’s not showing off.” She bantered back.

“No?”

“Nope.”

“Then what is?”

Hermione winked and grabbed the quaffle before launching herself back into the air straight towards the hoop and throwing it right down the center. When she looked down, all her friends were laughing while everyone else was staring at her with awe, wonder and in a couple cases..._jealousy_.

Rolling her eyes she waved brightly before she made her way back down to the ground.

“That’s _so_ cool!” Dean whispered and Ginny nodded.

“Don’t expect you’d want to try out for the team, Sister Mine?” Harry bantered good-naturedly and Hermione just laughed and shook her head, ‘no.’

“Sorry, Harry, not exactly my kind of game.” She went over to Ron and gave him and hug in congratulations. “Well done!”

“Thanks, Mione!”

She nodded and started walking with the rest of the Gryffindor’s. 

As they passed by the Slytherins, she heard a singular voice speak up...

“Who does she think she’s trying to impress?”

This didn’t bother her, but the subsequent drawl of the unmistakable voice of the next person did.

“Were we _supposed_ to be impressed?”

The throaty laugh had Hermione’s hackles rising a touch.

“Obviously not. But then again, sometimes _less is more._..or so I’ve heard. But you never know with some kinds of people.”

Malfoy chuckled and Harry, who had overheard the conversation, understood the slight just as Hermione had—and he glared over his shoulder at Malfoy...who was smirking at them all.

His sister instinctively reached for his arm as she murmured evenly, “_Apparently a leopard really doesn’t change his spots or in this case...a snake—despite what he might wish to claim to the contrary.”_

Harry returned Malfoy’s smirk when he noticed Malfoy stiffen at the rebuke, his old sneer making an appearance on his aristocratic face.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Prewett.”

Hermione stopped and turned her head just enough to stare the blonde wizard down.

“Apparently I _do_ as you’re so quick to try and defend yourself, ferret. And here I assumed that perhaps you were capable of being a decent person. My _mistake_ and one I won’t be repeating.”

She turned her head and pulled Harry with her, not noticing Draco’s angry scowl nor the other Slytherins expressions of anger, surprise and amusement.

When Hermione reached the Gryffindor common room, she told Harry she was going to get ready for their dinner party at Slughorn’s office a bit later...then groaned inwardly when she realized that Malfoy would likely be there too.

_Blasted ferret!_

She sat at the edge of her bed and stared out the window morosely, trying to figure out what had change the last week or so. Malfoy had been almost nice to her and he’d even apologized for his behavior at his Mother’s party...only to make the same offense twice.

She had forgiven him the first time, but _not_ anymore!

It was clear that for whatever his reasons, he wasn’t capable of treating her with any sort of respect or kindness and Hermione had taken enough of Malfoy’s abuse over the years...she wasn’t going to take anymore of it.

Grabbing her toiletries, she went into the ensuite to take a shower and think about how she was going to get through this evening without hexing the blighter.

Even her magic seemed on edge as she dressed for the dinner.

The dress robes she chose were a simple royal blue that matched her eyes with silver stitching around the sweetheart neckline and the capped sheer sleeves. The skirt was full and flirty and the three inch silver heels accented the dress perfectly. When she got to the common room, Harry was waiting in a nice set of dark gray dress robes.

His green eyes sparkled as he took in her appearance.

“You look beautiful, Sister mine.”

“Thank you, Brother mine...you look handsome as well.”

“Shall we?” Harry said as he offered her his arm.

“We shall.” She giggled and the two set off for Slughorn’s offices, waving goodbye to their housemates.

When they got to Slughorn’s quarters, both Harry and Hermione were surprised with how spacious they were. The room was large and welcoming, with a large fireplace, open seating area and a large dining table near an open balcony.

“Mr. Potter and Miss Prewett! Come in, come in!”

They both smiled and moved forward together, noticing that there were several wizard’s and witches already in attendance.

“Good evening, Professor.” Harry said kindly, shaking the man’s beefy hand. “Thank you for inviting us.”

“Nonsense.” Slughorn beamed happily as he bowed over the back of Hermione’s hand in welcome. “Come, allow me to introduce you both to some people I think you’ll be very interested in meeting.”

Slughorn moved over to the far side of the room, where a young witch that Hermione didn’t immediately recognize was talking with Malfoy.

“This young lady here is Gwenog Jones, Beater and Captain of the Holyhead Harpies. Gwenog, this is Harry Potter and his sister, Hermione Prewett.”

The Quidditch star smiled brightly at the both of them as pleasantries were exchanged, while Malfoy just stood off to the side, quiet and observing.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you both!” Gwenog said genuinely. “I understand you play Seeker for the Gryffindor team, Harry.”

“I do.” Harry nodded, his expression a bit embarrassed. “But it’s probably a lot different playing professionally than at school.”

“Yes, but I do find myself at times missing playing for Hogwarts. I was Beater for Hufflepuff back during my years here.” Her bright brown eyes fell on Hermione. “I’m sorry, but don’t you know Viktor Krum?”

Hermione blushed but nodded. “I do. My former last name was Granger and Viktor was my date for the Yule Ball back during my fourth year. We are still good friends, and we write to each other quite a bit. He’s in Russia right now.”

“Yes, I’ve heard that too. Bulgaria did quite well at the World Cup this past summer. That last game against the French team was inspired.”

“I have to admit, I’m not much of a Quidditch follower.” Hermione admitted sheepishly. “Harry, along with my other best friend Ron Weasley, are big fans of the game.”

“Oh, I’m surprised.” Gwenog remarked flippantly. “I just assumed that you must’ve been, being friends with Viktor.”

“No, it’s alright, a lot of people assume that too.”

Gwenog turned towards Malfoy and smiled. “Draco here, plays Seeker too. Do you know each other?”

Harry’s expression turned cold while Hermione just nodded primly. “We are acquainted.”

Something in their expressions must’ve resonated with the Harpies Captain, because her smiled faded a bit and she looked uncomfortable.

“Prewett is being modest,” Draco drawled easily, “we’ve been academic rivals since our first year, and Potter and I have been Quidditch rivals since our second. You know how House rivalries can be?”

Gwenog grinned and huffed out a laugh and nod. “That’s true. Gryffindor and Slytherin Quidditch matches were always the most brutal of the lot.”

“I can just imagine.” Hermione piped in evenly.

Thankfully, at that moment Slughorn decided to make his presence known again.

“Please come sit down and we will get everyone promptly introduced.”

Malfoy offered Gwenog his arm, which she took with a warm smile of thanks...while Harry guided Hermione over to their assigned seats—which were thankfully across the table from Malfoy. After Slughorn made the cursory introductions, the elves served the first course.

“So, Mr. Potter,” Gawain Robards addressed Harry politely, “what are your plans after taking your NEWTS next year.”

Harry finished chewing his salad and took a measured sip of his pumpkin juice before he spoke.

“I’m hoping to join the Aurors.”

Gawain nodded, impressed and pleased. “What classes are you in currently?”

“Defense, Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, History of Magic and Care of Magical Creatures.”

“All required courses for Auror training.” Gawain hummed thoughtfully, before turning his attention to Hermione. “And you, Miss Prewett? What classes are you currently taking?”

Hermione glanced at Harry and caught his quirked grin before she replied softly, “Defense, Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Runes, Arthimancy, History of Magic, Care of Magical Creatures and Astronomy.”

Several utensils dropped as the older guests eyes the young witch disbelievingly.

“You’re taking 10 NEWTS?” Jezebel Brickard, Deputy Head of the International Magical Cooperation Department asked.

“Yes, ma’am.” Hermione bit her lip and said uneasily. “I was taking twelve, but Divination isn’t a subject I find the least bit interesting and Muggle Studies is rather outdated. I have been wondering why there isn’t a corresponding magical studies class offered here at Hogwarts, as I think it would be to the benefit of those who come into this world at eleven to have some kind of context.”

Gawain nodded. “I would tend to agree, and I’m sure you’d find many like minded individuals on the Hogwarts School of Governors.” The Deputy Head of the DMLE turned his attention to the Malfoy Heir.

“And what of you, Mr. Malfoy? What classes are you taking this year?”

Draco just sat back and said impassively. “I’m in the same courses as Miss Prewett.”

“Impressive.” Gawain bowed his head. “I’m sure your Father must be proud.”

“My Father tends to have high expectations, that’s true.” Draco parlayed easily. “But it’s my Mother who believes that I should make the most of my education. I’m doing an internship this year in my spare time with Professor Snape. When I graduate from Hogwarts, I fully intend to follow in my Godfather’s footsteps and earn a dual mastery in both Charms and Potions.”

“Why Charms?” Gwenog asked with interest.

“It’s a natural companion to potions. Many of the potions utilize advanced charms in the brewed green process. Severus never desired to teach Charms, but being a Dual Master in both disciplines, he would be able to teach me.”

“How lucky.” Jezebel hummed, and Draco just bowed his head humbly at the comment.

Hermione however was floored—she had no idea that Malfoy had such lofty aspirations for his future. She’d just thought he’d wallow around like some self-entitled playboy after school until his parents found some poor unsuspecting witch for him to marry.

From the look in his eyes as he considered her, Hermione suspected he knew what she was thinking.

“And you, Miss Prewett? Do you have any plans for after school?”

This question came from Robards, who’s eyes were alight with interest and Hermione couldn’t help but feel a twinge of discomfort at the heavily worded question.

How in Merlin’s name was she supposed to answer that now?

“My interests are quite varied, Sir. I have always been interested in Magical Creatures, but recently I’ve been thinking about maybe being a curse breaker. I’m not sure working in the Ministry is for me.”

“Nonsense, Miss Prewett,” Gawain began imperiously, “I’m sure someone with your talents and intellect could find a position within the Ministry quite challenging and fulfilling.”

“Maybe she’ll be the Minister for Magic, someday? Hey, Sis?”

Hermione smiled at Harry’s joke, and everyone chuckled along.

“I don’t think that’s the job for me. I do understand we have a new Minister though. Rufus Scrimgeor, yes?”

“Hmmm, yes.” Jezebel piped in. “He’s quite a traditionalist but fair-minded and a good politician.”

“Is there such thing as a good politician?” Draco deadpanned, earning several laughs from the older set whom were grinning and nodding in agreement.

“Touché.” Gawain mused. “But he is preferable to his predecessor.”

“That’s not saying much.” Harry mumbled darkly and Hermione nodded in agreement.

“Ah, I forgot that you weren’t a fan of Minister Fudge.”

“No, Sir. He allowed Umbridge to run amok last year and reek havoc on this school and the students here.”

Jezebel’s face pinched in disgust. “That woman was a menace.”

“From what I understand, she got her comeuppance in the end.” Draco smirked at Hermione, who’s eyes narrowed at the pompous git, even though there were a few uneasy chuckles around the table.

“Well,” Slughorn coughed to get the groups attention, “these three are some of my finest students and it’s always a good idea to search out new ideas and options for the future. You never know what might spark your interest or catch you eye.”

“Very true.” Gawain offered with a nod of agreement as the elves took away their dinner and dessert was served. “I’ve heard a few interesting rumors at the Ministry and while I’m always thrilled to have dinner with Horace here, my primary reason for coming tonight was to meet you, Miss Prewett. It’s not everyday that we have the honor of having someone of your abilities within our social circles.”

Hermione swallowed and dropped her head in embarrassment, not expecting this segue...although she probably should’ve.

“There’s been a lot of changes for me in the past few months.” Was all she felt compelled to say.

“I believe that’s an _understatement_.” Gawain replied with amusement coloring his tone. “I’ve met your Great-Grandmother on a few occasions, Miss Prewett, and I must say...Lady Prewett is a force of nature.”

“That’s one way of putting it.” Draco drawled, earning another round of chuckles, and a dark look from Hermione.

“My Grandmother has been very supportive of both myself and Harry.” Hermione’s voice was even, as she stared Malfoy down. “In fact, I’ve been rather fortunate to have made several new connections within my circle these past few months. Theodore Nott and his father Thoros, have been most welcoming as have the Pucey’s. I’ve always been close with the Weasley family, but now we are actually family, so that has been another positive.”

“I did hear from Armand recently that you and Adrian were seeing each other.” Jezebel winked, and Hermione couldn’t help the blush that stole over her cheeks—but she nodded nonetheless.

“He’s been a bright spot, and is a fine gentleman too.” Hermione offered softly and Jezebel smiled knowingly at her.

“Adrian is very much like his Father. Kind, intelligent and personable.”

Hermione noticed Malfoy slightly sneering out of the corner of her eye, and she couldn’t help but smile widely at the other witch and nod enthusiastically.

“He’s also very handsome and clever too.” She side-whispered with a wink.

The witches nodded together while the wizard’s, minus Malfoy, all chuckled.

Malfoy just subtly averted his gaze in disgust.

The rest of the dessert talk focused on Quidditch, which Hermione bit her lip to keep from complaining about.

When the time came for everyone to thank their host and make their exits...Gwenog came over and offered Harry a couple of tickets to a future match (she made the same offer to Malfoy) while Gawain told Harry he expected to hear from him next summer if he was interested in doing a summer internship in the DMLE. Harry just shook the man’s hand excitedly, promising to do just that.

As they walked out of Slughorn’s offices, Harry and Hermione kept themselves distanced from Malfoy—who seemed disinclined to engage with them both.

“What’s his problem?” Harry whispered as he nudged his chin in Draco’s direction.

“I don’t know.” Hermione replied uneasily.

“He was being almost decent a week ago, but this past week he seems like his usual git self.”

Hermione bit her lip as she nodded once, her eyes locked onto the back of Malfoy’s lithe frame as he sauntered down the hallway of the sixth floor heading towards the staircases. She didn’t want to admit to herself or Harry that she’d noticed the changes in Malfoy’s behavior too, nor did she want to speculate too hard about why he was acting the way he was.

When they finally got to the stairs, Harry and Hermione watched as Malfoy moved downward and then the stairs moved to the right, dropping him off on the fifth level. As she and Harry made their way up to the seventh floor landing, Hermione peered over the edge and nearly flinched back when she caught Malfoy’s grey eyes staring up at her with an expression she couldn’t quite fathom.

If she had to guess, she’d say he looked rather upset.

Moving to the top step and out into the seventh floor corridor, Hermione sighed inwardly. 

Something wasn’t right, but she just didn’t know yet what that something was.


	37. Confrontation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is confronted with a startling truth and has to decide what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello readers! Next installment is here! Thank you to those who’ve read and reviewed...left a kudo here and there too...❤️❤️❤️

It was rinse and repeat for the next few weeks as Hermione had to deal with a steady diet of Draco Malfoy avoiding her, ignoring her or if he couldn’t, barely acknowledging her presence.

He seemed to be quite taken with Therese Rowle, and when they weren’t in classes together, he was to be found at the witch’s side often.

The worst moment came a few days before Halloween, when Hermione was doing prefect patrols with Ernie MacMillan and they were wandering around the dungeons in Slytherin territory, when Hermione heard a sound coming from the same classroom Malfoy had taken Harry into the month before.

Placing a finger to her lips, Ernie nodded as Hermione cast a silencing charm and opened the door to the empty classroom.

_That wasn’t so empty after all._

Hermione stopped in her tracks when she walked into the room and then gasped, when Ernie nearly ran into her back as they both halted at the scene before them.

For there, in the corner of the room...highlighted by only a sliver of light coming through a small window was Malfoy and Therese Rowle..._snogging_.

Thankfully they were fully dressed, mostly...

But Hermione felt her chest tighten uncomfortably as she turned away from the heated scene and shook her head at Ernie...silently letting him know that he would need to handle this.

Ernie to his credit, didn’t bat an eyelash as she cancelled the silencing spell and he cleared his throat.

Hermione’s back was to the scene, so she didn’t see Malfoy’s surprised expression...nor Rowle’s smug one.

“Malfoy, you know better than to be out after curfew.”

Ernie’s voice was polite and amused...and Hermione could only imagine what was going through the wizard’s mind.

She heard Malfoy clear his throat, before he drawled arrogantly, “Oh, is curfew over _already?”_

Hermione rolled her eyes as she listened to the ensuing conversation.

“It’s been over for about thirty minutes, so you two might want to head back to Slytherin before Filch catches you,” Ernie then turned his head towards Hermione and said playfully, “what do you think, Hermione? Should we dock these two lovebirds points.”

Groaning inwardly, Hermione just replied coldly, “I couldn’t care less, Ernie. If you’ll excuse me.”

She didn’t waste another moment escaping out of the room, and heading out of Slytherin territory.

It wasn’t any of her concern what Draco sodding Malfoy and Therese Rowle got up to in private, but for some reason she didn’t understand, the whole entire encounter left her feeling...

_Unsettled?_

No, that wasn’t the right word.

As she moved towards the staircases, Hermione’s thoughts were running through her mind a mile a minute so it wasn’t until she heard Ernie calling her name that she stopped and turned around.

Thankfully, he was alone.

“You alright, Hermione?”

She just nodded and rolled her eyes. “I’m perfectly fine.” She lied. “Thank you for dealing with that. You know how Malfoy hates me, and I’d rather not be the one to take away points. I’d prefer to keep my distance from the ferret.”

Ernie chuckled deeply. “Well, I didn’t take points this time but warned him if I caught him again, I would.”

“That was awfully nice of you, Ernie.”

The Hufflepuff just shrugged easily. “I’m a nice guy.”

Hermione snickered at that and the two students said their goodbyes as Ernie made his way back towards the Hufflepuff common room near the kitchens while Hermione just wandered towards the staircases and looked up towards the top of the castle with a sigh.

As she was about to step on the staircase, a noise sounded from behind her. Sending out her senses and erecting her shields just in case...she was surprised when she felt Malfoy standing there.

She didn’t even bother to turn around.

“What do you want, ferret?”

A harsh scoff sounded from over her left shoulder and she sighed as she looked behind her slightly and saw Malfoy emerge from the shadows.

“Do you make it a habit of entering rooms silenced, Prewett?”

Hermione sighed. “Not that it’s any of your concern, Malfoy...but we were patrolling and you were out _after_ curfew. So excuse me for taking necessary precautions especially in the Slytherin area, where I’ve already been attacked once this year.”

Draco’s face fell for a split second, before that arrogant smirk was back.

“And just how long were you standing there before you dropped your little spell?”

This did cause Hermione to scoff loudly. “Save it, ferret! And don’t flatter yourself.”

“I wasn’t, Prewett.” Draco’s voice was the exactly same as it had been the previous year.

Scathing and hateful, and Hermione shook her head angrily.

“You know what, Malfoy? _I’m so sick of your mercurial mood swings. _I honestly thought after your apology, that you might actually be a decent sort, but then you negate that by acting like your surly prattish self. You apologized for Pansy’s hateful words and your complicity, and then proceed to do the exact same thing when your little girlfriend insults me in the exact same manner. _You haven’t changed at all! _You’re still the same _**foul evil cockroach**_ you’ve always been and you always will be.”

Hermione watched as Malfoy’s expression darkened, his nostrils flaring as he took a couple steps closer to her.

His harsh laughter reverberating through the corridor.

“That’s rich, coming from _you_...little Miss High and Mighty! All _new powers_ and you think you have the right to use them whenever you want against whomever you wish!”

Hermione paled and took a reflexive step back.

“What are you talking about?”

She swallowed as Malfoy moved into her personal space and looked his aristocratic nose down at her.

“What _indeed_, Prewett? Perhaps you know nothing about the reason why, on the night of your birthday, I found myself in the Astronomy Tower...but that wasn’t the _funny_ thing. I remember heading up there and then going back to Slytherin House, but you want to know the _strange_ part?”

His grey eyes bored into hers and Hermione felt her heart racing as she tried her best to keep eye contact.

“No, I really don’t.”

This elicited another dark laugh. “_I’ll bet you don’t_. But I don’t care! When I got back to my House, funny thing was...over an hour had elapsed from the time I’d left the common room, to my return. _An hour!_ Somehow, I lost an hour of time, which confused me at first until I went to my Godfather had had him enter my mind. I’ve been taking Occlumency lessons with him...fine tuning a few things but then you have as well? Haven’t you? What happened, Prewett? Did I walk into something you didn’t want me to see and you obliviated me? You’d be the only one powerful enough to do it!”

Hermione took another step back as her expression fell, and she saw Malfoy’s mouth twist in a cruel triumphant sneer.

Shaking her head, she went to turn around and leave but Malfoy grabbed her arm.

_Roughly_.

Her magic immediately reacted, but not in the way she expected it to.

The shock that went through her body caused her to fall to her knees...her other hand grasping her chest as she tried desperately to get ahold of her breathing.

_Was this a panic attack?_

Malfoy’s expression, that had been angry...was now utterly surprised as he knelt down too...from shock or concern she didn’t know which.

“Prewett?” His voice was gentler than it had been, but Hermione didn’t know what was happening to her.

Shaking her head, she then lifted her gaze and noticed Malfoy’s grey eyes watching her questioningly.

Almost tenderly.

She wrenched her arm from his and in a move of pure panic, closed her eyes and disapparated herself on the spot...reappearing up at the Astronomy Tower...desperately trying to get her breathing under control.

Yep...panic attack.

Had to be.

She fell to her side and tried as best as she could to work through her breathing, clearing her mind and concentrating on her magic—which was swirling in agitation.

Her skin where Malfoy had touched it in his anger felt like it was on _fire_.

_What the fuck was going on?_

Closing her eyes, she silently called for Professor Snape and it was about ten minutes later, the Head of Slytherin House was kneeling down at her side...looking at her with what amounted to concern.

“Miss Prewett?”

“Something is wrong.”

“I can see that for myself.”

“No, with my magic. _Something is wrong.”_

Snape’s expression morphed into curiosity as he waved his wand over her and hummed to himself for a few moments.

“Your magical core is quite active. Did something happen?”

She nodded, her blue eyes staring into deep onyx ones and when Snape made eye contact...she could feel him enter her mind. She didn’t try and hide anything...knowing if anyone could explain what was happening it would be her Defense Professor.

After a few moments, Professor Snape broke eye contact with a sigh.

“I am at a loss, Miss Prewett. Was what Mr. Malfoy speculated upon...the truth?”

Biting her lip she gingerly sat up and nodded sheepishly, but seeing her Professor’s scowl she decided to clarify a bit.

“I didn’t do it against his will. I _swear_ it. I was up here with Theo when it happened and he can vouch for me. Malfoy...well, he was under a disillusionment charm, which when I realized what he’d seen...”

“You obliviated him?”

“Theo was going to do it. As it stands, Malfoy made the offer. He placed the memory in a box and had me banish the key to someplace safe, which I did. I didn’t even think that he might’ve noticed..”

“That time had elapsed?” Snape mused disdainfully. “Miss Prewett, while I realize your Gryffindor tendencies tend to have you react first before considering all the viable options or perhaps it is your assignation with Mr. Potter that has given you the propensity towards rash decisions,” Hermione winced at the rebuke, “my godson, is neither an ignorant dunderhead nor a fool.” Snape paused as his expression darkened slightly before he continued on cryptically, “At least, not usually.”

“No, he’s just an arrogant prat.” Hermione mumbled and Snape just lifted an eyebrow at her before muttering an, “Indeed.” Which had her smiling somewhat.

“I do believe your past history with Mr. Malfoy has made you somewhat blind to your own culpability. Not to say his behavior has been anything but reprehensible at times,” Snape was quick to amend, “but perhaps you need to be a bit more educated on what life under the threat of the Dark Lord was truly like for those on the other side.”

“Like you?”

Snape just tilted his head in acknowledgment. “Indeed. But unlike me, there are those who lived their life under a microscope of fear and reprisal constantly. It is easy to sit in judgement, Miss Prewett with your righteous Gryffindor mindset but the world is rarely black and white. You may find yourself at a crossroads between the two and how you choose to handle the choices meted out to you will determine just what kind of future you’ll be left with.”

Hermione’s gaze was curious as she mulled over her Professor’s words of wisdom.

After a few moments she stood up with his help and nodded her thanks.

“I’ll take your words to heart, Professor.”

“Please do, Miss Prewett. I will be owling your Grandmother tomorrow about this incident, but might I suggest you do so yourself?”

“I will.”

“Shall I see you to Gryffindor Tower?”

Hermione shook her head. “I’m alright, Professor. Thank you for your help.”

Snape just bowed his head before turning and robes billowing, made his exit down the steps of the parapet.

Hermione just stood there and watched her Professor go before she walked over to the railing and stared out over the Black Lake for a few moments before she closed her eyes and felt her body shift into her animagus form.

Then she took flight.

As she flew down over the water she felt her magic building and letting a caw of sound out into the night, her magic shifted again and in a flash...she was gone.

Muriel Prewett had seen much in her long life, but the flash of light in her sitting room and the Phoenix that emerged there had her gasping in shock.

When the bird morphed into her granddaughter before her eyes, Muriel just shook her head in astonishment.

“Good evening, Dearest. To what do I owe the pleasure of your company...since you should be in your dorm room asleep by now?”

Hermione sighed, plopped down quite unladylike on the sofa across from her Grandmother and grimaced.

“You’ll be getting a lovely owl from Professor Snape tomorrow. I wanted to warn you.”

“About?”

So Hermione told her Grandmother everything, including what had happened that evening. By the narrowing of her gaze, Hermione suspected that her Grandmother wasn’t too happy.

“The Malfoy Heir accosted you?”

“Yes and no—although I think he felt justified because of what he suspects I did to him.”

“What you _did_ do to him.” Muriel clarified with a proud smirk.

“Was I wrong?” Hermione asked after a few quiet moments and she was unsurprised when her Grandmother shook her head in the negative.

“No, based on your rather contentious history with the lad, I don’t expect you had any reason to trust his word. I’m fairly certain that the young Malfoy Heir, while trying to carve out a new direction for himself and Slytherin House...still has a fair bit of his Father in him. Pride before the fall, young lady. A truth you both might seek to learn a bit more about.”

Hermione’s grimace deepened, but didn’t argue the point with her Grandmother.

Instead she asked another question that had been bothering her.

“Grandmother, I believe Dumbledore knows whom my bonded is likely to be. I believe he heard the Prophecy and has a fairly good guess who that wizard might be.”

Muriel’s lips pursed unhappily but she nodded in agreement. “I’ve suspected as much. In fact, I’ve had my own suspicions on the matter since you left for Hogwarts but I didn’t wish to speak of it out of turn.”

Hermione leant forward with interest as she queried, “You think you know who the wizard _is?”_

Muriel nodded and then sighed, giving her granddaughter a pitying look.

“I believe you know, deep down—who it likely is too, Hermione. I just think you’re too stubborn to look at the facts and make the proper assumption.”

Sitting back stunned, Hermione’s brow furrowed in confusion. “I don’t understand?”

Muriel chuckled and shook her head again. “Yes, you do. It will come to you, child, when you’re ready to acknowledge it and not a second sooner. I will not speak of it, because I don’t wish to unduly influence you, nor your actions. But promise me one thing, please?”

Hermione bit her lip and nodded slowly.

“When that moment comes, _do not react hastily._ Take some time and ponder the why’s and wherefore’s of the reasons your own magic might choose to seek out your mate. What you would have to _gain_ from such a pairing and be honest with yourself. _Truly honest, Dearest. _Sometimes our mind and heart war with each other because we may not accept certain possibilities when circumstances prevent us from admitting the truth to ourselves. You are your magic and vice versa.”

“Theo made a comment to that effect a while back and I suppose I just have a hard time not trusting anything that doesn’t have to do with my own mind.”

“Ah, well...not everything can be tied into a neat bow.”

“No, I suppose not.” Hermione mused and then asked, “From what it sounds like, you suspect that Adrian may not be my ancillary?”

Muriel hummed but didn’t refute that claim. All she said was, “Adrian Pucey is a sweet wizard who would be a caring mate, but tell me truly, dearest...do you feel passionately about him? Does he make your magic sing and your blood boil?”

Hermione’s expression fell as she shook her head. “No. I like him very much and he is sweet and kind...but I’m not sure what it is I’m supposed to feel for someone? I’m just getting to know Adrian, so how can I speak with any certainty on how I’m to feel?”

“I wish I could tell you, Dearest, but this is something you will need to figure out for yourself.”

“That’s the problem with all this, Grandmother! No one can tell me anything concrete! I feel as if I’m flailing around, desperately pretending like everything is alright when nothing could be further from the truth.”

Muriel chuckled at her granddaughter’s histrionics. “You’re being a bit dramatic, Hermione. No one expects you to have all the answers yet, except _you_.”

Grumbling under her breath, Hermione decided to ignore that last comment—even if it was true to a certain extent.

“I should probably return to school.”

“A _wise_ idea.”

Standing up, Hermione went over to her Grandmother and kissed her goodbye on the cheek—but not before promising to write should she need anything.

“An owl will suffice, Dearest...not that I’m not happy to see you but you shouldn’t make it a habit of leaving through the Hogwarts wards—as I’m sure such an ability would be heavily frowned down upon...even if I applaud it.”

Smiling cheekily, Hermione nodded. “Of course.”

Muriel watched as her granddaughter transformed into a Phoenix right before her eyes and smiled as she took off outside the Manor, before with a resounding caw and flash of flame—Hermione was gone.

Tutting to herself, Muriel couldn’t help but feel quite melancholy that Fabian wasn’t here to see how powerful and beautiful his daughter had become. Of all the things that Muriel had wished for, and felt robbed of—that one consumed her the most.

Life was cruel and unjust sometimes—as she suspected Hermione would end up learning the hard way.

But sometimes fate had a way having a laugh despite what we might seek for ourselves.

Muriel just prayed that somehow, when that moment came—that her granddaughter would act with wisdom and equanimity instead of with fire and violence.

Merlin help the Malfoy Heir, if Hermione’s impulses tended towards the latter.


	38. Dunderhead Draco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus confronts Draco with the truth.

Draco returned to the Slytherin common room feeling like his hand was burnt from the inside out.

He’d felt the shock of magic move through him when he’d grabbed Hermione, and it had knocked the wind from his lungs too, but her reaction had been far more distressing.

She looked like she was having some sort of panic attack.

And then she’d disappeared right in front of him, which should’ve been impossible within the wards of Hogwarts as only the Headmaster could apparate in and out of the school grounds.

But apparently, that didn’t hold true for a Sorceress and her powers, which were _considerable_.

He’d been stunned this afternoon by Prewett’s abilities—it was clear she had some kind of telekinetic gifts that she could use at will. Rumors had been rampant throughout the Dark Lord’s circles that the wizard could fly without the need of a broom, but this was something different.

Even the Dark Lord had needed a wand.

But that wasn’t the case for Hermione Prewett and Draco was convinced she’d obliviated him somehow—but try as he might, he couldn’t fathom just how she could’ve done something like that to him unless she’d petrified him and then entered his mind in some way.

Shaking his head angrily, Draco found himself walking further into Slytherin and immediately noticed the common room was empty. Wandering over to the couch near the hearth, where the embers of the fire were just starting to fade, Draco sat down and contemplated the past thirty minutes with a heavy sigh and a furrowed brow.

He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting there for, until the common room door opened and in billowed his godfather—who had a deep scowl marring his normally stoic features.

“Godfather.”

“Draco—would you come with me please?”

His confusion must’ve been easy to see, because Severus just shook his head and gestured with his hand to follow him.

Eventually, Draco found himself in his godfather’s office.

“Sit, Draco.”

Not wanting to incur Severus wrath, Draco did as instructed and waited to be addressed.

He watched warily, as his godfather moved around the room, grabbing a few things from his storage cabinet and after about twenty minutes of silence...he finally sat down across from him with a measured look.

“Draco,” he began dryly, “I have watched you over the course of your life and have often wondered at your penchant for rash behavior. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you should’ve been sorted into the House of Lions instead of Snakes.”

Draco scowled, clearly not pleased with this assessment as he scoffed and said bitingly, “That’s _harsh_, Uncle.”

“Yet _true_.” Severus deadpanned. “I know you’ve been unlike yourself for a while, and I do believe I’ve discovered why.” Draco went to speak, but Severus held up his left hand to stop him. “It has been brought to my attention that you had an altercation with Miss Prewett this evening?”

Draco’s face blanched, not expecting that segue as he asked, “And you know this how?”

“Miss Prewett called for me. I found her collapsed on the parapet of the Astronomy Tower, having a panic attack of some kind. When she allowed me to look into her mind, I saw your confrontation with her.”

“So you know she obliviated me?”

Severus nodded. “She admitted as much.” Draco’s look of triumph and self-righteousness was short-lived however, as Severus drawled, “She did so with _your_ permission.”

Draco’s expression morphed from smug to disbelieving in the blink of an eye.

“_Excuse me?”_

“Yes, Draco. Apparently Mr. Nott can verify this as he was present when it happened. According to Miss Prewett, you locked the memory away in a box and told her to banish the key. There is no way she could’ve perfected that technique, as that is something you and I alone have worked on. Her Occlumency is not sufficient for such skills...at least, _not yet.”_

Draco’s eyes widened and then his whole demeanor deflated in defeat.

He’d allowed her into his mind?

_Fuck!_

“Indeed.” Severus droned out in disgust as Draco realized belatedly that he’d spoken the last word out. “You have been punishing the witch needlessly this past month like a _spoilt child_ because of something she did do, but not in the way you’d assumed. Draco, do you really mean to alienate your _future bonded _after such a fashion?”

Snape almost laughed at the stupefied expression on his godson’s face.

“How?”

“Did I guess?”

Draco nodded.

“Your lack of faith in my abilities astounds me, Draco.” Snape replied mockingly. “I spied for Dumbledore for years, lied to the Dark Lord and you think that something of this nature would be beyond my comprehension to figure out?”

The _tsking_ sound that came from his godfather had Draco blushing in embarrassment.

“She _hates_ me.” Draco murmured lowly and Snape just hummed in agreement.

“You’ve given the witch no reason to think fondly of you. You’ve reacted brashly because your feelings were hurt, or was it something else?”

“I don’t know.” Draco mused. “I’ve felt off this past month.”

Snape tilted his head in thought as he stared at his godson.

“Is there a chance you might’ve locked certain emotions away when you compartmentalized the memory? If you’d felt particularly hurt or defeated, I could see that happening, Draco. While your Occlumency is fairly advanced...such mind techniques as I’ve taught them to you could’ve rendered your emotions compromised if you’d felt rushed or perhaps..._forced into making a choice you didn’t wish to.”_

Draco sat back and pondered that for a moment. “Do you think that’s possible? I mean, could locking away the memory and the corresponding emotions permanently damaged...”

“I do not believe so.” Severus finished for him, but his expression was less sure. “The only person who can unlock the memory is Miss Prewett and based upon what happened this evening, I’m inclined to think she may be unwilling to do so. Do you plan on formally courting Miss Rowle, despite your knowledge of the likelihood of becoming Miss Prewett’s ancillary?”

Draco sneered and shook his head. “Therese has a suitor who is finishing his final year at Drumstrang. He’s fairly good mates with Thorfinn and the betrothal contracts should be signed after she graduates in June. We were just...”

“Yes...I understand but I don’t believe Miss Prewett will be as understanding, Draco...especially when she comes to realize that you _purposefully_ engaged in relations with another witch, knowing that you and she might be bonded at some point. _How do you think a witch of her nature would take such an offense?”_

Draco paled, clearly not having made that connection which caused Severus to sigh heavily as he pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

“**Why** do you do this to yourself, Draco? Why to you react first without weighing the consequences of your actions?”

“I didn’t think..”

“_And therein lies your problem.”_ Snape finished with a subtle shake of his head, causing Draco to grimace at the disappointment wafting off his godfather.

“What should I do?”

Severus just stared at him for a few moments and when he spoke, his voice was filled with incredulity.

“Draco, I am fairly certain I am not the person to ask such a thing of. I think however, in this circumstance, you might wish to ask yourself what you might do to fix the mess you’ve made. An apology usually works, but since you’ve done that once and then proceeded to make yourself look an even bigger fool, I’m not sure how Miss Prewett might take such an overture.”

“You’re not helping, Godfather.”

“I am sorry, Godson, if my _lack of interest_ in helping you fix your love life doesn’t quite meet up with your lofty expectations. I wasn’t aware _that_ responsibility was explicitly carved into stone when I agreed to take on the task of looking out for you as a babe. I find myself in a bit of a quandary, Draco. As much as I abhor children and anything in general to do with familial ties...the only notable exception to that these past sixteen years has been _you_. I have watched you desperately crave your own Father’s approval, often to your detriment. I have seen you engage in _less than stellar _behavior on many occasions, and yet I’ve kept my opinions to myself as a general rule. You soon will be an at age wizard, in less than a year and if my supposition is accurate, you will be bonded to a witch who’s power will only seek to enhance your own. But the truth of the matter is Draco, the wizard I see before me is _woefully unprepared for that honor. _As it stands now...you **don’t deserve **such a gift and I would imagine that Miss Prewett in her Gryffindor stubbornness—just might very well refuse to bond with you—even to her own detriment. Would that make you happy?”

“_**No!” **_Draco blurted out emotively, and Severus smirked inwardly at how upset his godson appeared. “I don’t want to hurt her. Not _anymore_.”

“And yet that is all you’ve done.”

Draco hung his head in shame. His godfather was right. Whether or not he’d somehow botched up the memory charm, it was no excuse for his blatant disrespect of Hermione this past month. Yes, his feelings had been hurt—badly...but that didn’t excuse what he’d said and done.

Not completely.

Bullocks! 

He didn’t know how he was going to go about trying to fix this mess he’d made.

He was usually so calm, composed and rational.

Except when it came to Hermione.

_It had always been her._

Her intelligence, stubbornness and refusal to bend. She was fiery (literally), beautiful (even when she’d been Granger—a fact he’d been loathe to admit to because he couldn’t acknowledge it...even if he’d wanted to) and good. She was inherently good, pure and light and he was a prick...jealous, conceited and a fool.

He’d always been a fool around her.

And Saint Potter, but that was beside the point.

When his grey eyes met the dark ones of his godfather, Draco could see Severus seriously considering him for a few moments before he offered one final piece of sage advice.

“You have made efforts to change how others see Slytherin House this year and have even gone so far to make connections outside your own House. Might I suggest you start there.”

Draco nodded and stood, before bowing humbly at his godfather then taking his leave back to his dormitory.

Feeling chastened, defeated and oddly hopeful that perhaps he hadn’t completely ruined his chances.


	39. Potions Partners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is paired with Malfoy in Potions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Thank you for the reviews and kudos as always.  
Happy reading!

The days leading up to Halloween were exactly what Draco expected they’d be..._slow and painful. _He’d tried several times to speak with Hermione, but she’d seamlessly employed her ‘_**avoid Draco’**_ tactics that she’d employed so effectively over the summer.

So when Halloween came that Thursday, Draco was feeling a bit irritated.

Therese hadn’t taken the hint of his waning interest either, and Draco was beginning to wonder if he’d created a bit more trouble than he’d initially thought. The witch was beautiful, but beyond that the only thing they had in common was Quidditch.

She was as vapid and boring as she’d been the previous year.

When he entered Potions, Draco noticed Theo sitting with Potter and Hermione, and he nodded to his fellow Slytherin, who surprisingly returned the gesture.

So Prewett hadn’t mentioned anything to Theo then?

That was odd.

Taking his usual spot at the same table as Blaise and Pansy—Draco waited for Slughorn to enter...which he did after a few moments.

“Good day, class! And welcome to another exciting lesson.” Draco smirked inwardly and how unlike Severus, Horace Slughorn was. “Today, we will be brewing Amortentia, which if you remember from our first day of class is a terribly tricky potion to get right and disastrous should you get it wrong. Can anyone tell me the the ingredients of the potion...yes, Miss Prewett?”

Hermione cleared her throat primly before saying, “Peppermint flower heads and leaves, powdered moonstone, ashwinder eggs and rose thorns.”

“Very good, Miss Prewett...take 10 points for Gryffindor!” Slughorn clapped his hands together and rubbed them in glee. “Now as we know, this potion when done correctly takes nine days to brew and you will need to come in once a day to attend to it. Since this is rather a tricky potion, I will be breaking you up into pairs, which you can see on the board. Please remember that you will be judged on the level of pearlescent sheen to the potion as well as the final effects. We will not be including the blood or hair of any one individual...but if done correctly at the end of the assignment a single whiff should net the proper results! Please find you partner and begin brewing!”

Hermione glanced over Slughorn’s shoulder, and her expression fell as she noticed just whom her potions partner for this assignment was to be.

_Did the fates truly hate her guts?_

When she turned to Theo, he just smiled crookedly at her and she wished more than anything she’d confided to either him or Harry what had happened Sunday evening.

Grabbing her things, she reluctantly made her way towards Malfoy’s table as Blaise walked past her with a wink as he headed towards Katie Bell.

Theo was working with Romilda Vane and Harry with Faye Dunbar.

Pansy was with Neville and Lavender Brown was working with Seamus.

“Prewett.” Malfoy drawled, as he bowed his head at her, but she just nodded as she placed her book on the table and her book bag on the floor near the wall.

“How do you want to do this?” Malfoy asked and she just shrugged, unsure how to engage with the blonde, who’s expression was neutral.

After a few moments of silence, Malfoy huffed and left the table to go into the storage cabinet so she figured she could get the gold cauldron and set it up over the low flame while getting the potion water they needed measured for the assignment.

Once the 24 fl. oz. we’re measured exactly, she placed in into the cauldron just as a Malfoy returned with the moonstone, rose thorns and peppermint.

The rest of the prep time was met with silence as she and Malfoy worked together in harmony. Malfoy bruised the peppermint heads with the mortar and pestle perfectly, while she measured the moonstone out and set it aside. The twelve peppermint leaves were placed on a separate clean stone slab and the rose thorns were placed in a glass jar.

At each step, Hermione could see Draco eyeing their ingredients and mouthing silently to himself as she noticed him making a few small minor adjustments to the brewing. Intrigued, she watched him work...instinctively knowing that whatever it was that he was doing, was most likely the correct steps since he was brewing with Professor Snape in his spare time.

When they got to the final step of adding the rose thorns into the still moving potion after they’d done the anti-clockwise stirs...Hermione watched Malfoy count out exactly 18 rose thorns before he sprinkled them perfectly into the potion—leaving it to rest for the remainder of the class period.

“Why eighteen?” She whispered lowly, and Malfoy lifted up his head and cocked an eyebrow at her.

He’d guessed correctly that Hermione’s curiosity would get the better of her at some point.

“The text recipe calls for a handful, correct?”

She nodded and watched a bit warily as Draco held out his hand and then gently nudged his chin at her’s, before saying softly, “A handful means different things depending on who’s brewing the potion, wouldn’t you agree?”

Her eyes widened as she nodded again, impressed.

“Then how?”

“Did I figure out the exact number of rose thorns?”

Biting her lip and nodding a third time, caused Draco to smirk at how adorable and eager she was to learn something new.

“That’s the thing about potion making, Prewett, and one they don’t necessarily teach in school—is that there are variations to _everything_. This is one example, but I’m sure you can think of a few others too?”

“Yes.” She blurted out, now painfully intrigued.

“So, if you were researching something of this nature...how would you go about determining what the correct amount ought to be?”

Thinking about it, she looked into the cauldron and then smiled.

“It doesn’t make a difference because it’s based on the proportional amounts of the ingredients. Every ingredient is measured in the _power of three_. Three tablespoons of moonstone, six peppermint flower heads, twelve peppermint flower leaves, twenty-four ounces of potion water, three ashwinder eggs.”

She finished breathlessly and watched as Malfoy’s face broke out into a genuine pleased smile.

“Still the Brightest Witch.” He winked as he went to grab a silk cloth to cover the potion after the hour was up.

When Malfoy came back over, he set the silk cloth over a golden hanger next to his brewing station and watched the timer as the hour ran its course.

When they had about ten minutes left, he looked over at her and sighed.

“I owe you another apology, Prewett.”

Hermione’s head whipped to him and she stared at him wide eyed in surprise before her expression closed off.

“Don’t, Malfoy.” She whispered angrily, but Draco just shook his head—his expression pleading.

“I spoke with Severus, or should I say he spoke with me and told me a few things. It never even occurred to me that I might’ve given you permission to take the memory, as I’m not one to _ever_ allow anyone into my mind willingly...other than my godfather. I had no reason to suspect otherwise and yes, perhaps I should’ve asked you, but can you honestly tell me if I had...you’d have been forthcoming?”

Hermione blushed and bit her lip hard as she stared into grey eyes that were watching her closely.

Draco wasn’t wrong...per se. It was likely she’d not have been exactly agreeable to having that discussion.

“That doesn’t excuse why you were so hateful.” Her voice was pained, even if her expression was stoic.

“_Doesn’t it?_” He challenged back. “Look at it from my point of view for a moment? Our history being what it’s been, if the roles were reversed? What conclusion would you have automatically come to?”

As much as she wanted to, Hermione couldn’t deny the truth. She would’ve thought Malfoy had done something untoward against her will.

But before she could speak, he did so.

“Severus mentioned that perhaps when I locked the memory away, I might’ve somehow locked away certain emotions with it if I’d felt pressured or coerced. Not that I’m accusing you...” he was quick to point out, “I’m just hypothesizing based on how I’ve felt this past month.”

“Which has been?”

“_Off_, I guess.” He watched as the timer ended and placed the silk cloth over the gold cauldron before setting it aside in the designated area for the next nine days. “We need to decide who’s going to come and stir this on each day.” Casting a _tempus_, Hermione watched Draco write down the exact time and then handed her a copy of it on a piece of parchment. “Exactly twenty four hours from now each day, we need to come in and stir it. I can take tomorrow, but I have my first Quidditch match Saturday.”

“I can do it.” Hermione offered, and felt her stomach swoop when Malfoy gave her a smile of thanks. “I can do Monday and Wednesday next week too. The potion will be ready next Saturday, which is a Hogsmeade weekend. We will need to bottle it, and I’m happy to come in and do it.”

Draco shook his head. “I’ll be here next Saturday brewing with Severus, so I can do it, but we’ll need to smell it first before handing it in to make sure it’s brewed appropriately.”

“Oh,” Hermione bit her lip again as she nodded, watching him from underneath her lashes as he grabbed his things. “What will you be brewing?”

Draco quirked an eyebrow, but replied easily, “Polyjuice. I’ll be starting it anyway.”

Hermione’s expression brightened. “Oh, that’s fascinating and it’s quite complex too.”

“And how would you know that?”

The blush that stole over her cheeks outed her, as she saw Malfoy grinning at her.

“Why you _diabolically_ wicked witch!” He breathed out huskily. “When?”

Her blue eyes caught grey ones that were heated and she replied softly, “Second Year.”

If there was a moment Hermione was certain she’d remember for the rest of her life, it was the second her words registered with Malfoy. His expression went from playful to gobsmacked as his mouth dropped open in shock.

_It was a good look._

Moving over, she used her finger and placed it under his chin to close his mouth—her giggles muffled as she was desperately digging her teeth into her lower lip.

“_Seriously?” _

His eyes widened, as his eyes darted around the room to see if anyone was paying them any attention. Thankfully everyone else was busy cleaning up their work stations.

“Yes.”

Her eyes dropped as she couldn’t maintain his intense stare but then she felt Malfoy’s fingers gently cup her chin and lift her face up, so he could read her expression.

“Why?”

“Do we have to do this here and now?”

He nodded, his face resolute and Hermione sighed.

“Fine!” She whispered fiercely, “Harry thought you were the Heir of Slytherin. I brewed Polyjuice so Harry and Ron could sneak into the Slytherin Common Room and prove Harry right.”

Draco’s gaze narrowed, and Hermione could see the wheels turning in his mind before he threw his head back and _laughed_—causing everyone in the classroom to stare at both of them in shock. When he was a bit calmer, his face broke out into the widest grin Hermione had ever seen on the ferret’s face and the effect was...

_Heart stopping._

In that moment Hermione literally felt her heart stop.

And then she shook her head, all the while inwardly chanting, ‘_**No, no, no! I do not think Draco Malfoy is fit. I do not think Draco Malfoy is fit.’**_

But when her eyes locked back onto his, Hermione just pursed her lips together and sighed in defeat.

Draco Malfoy was _most definitely fit_ and he was smiling at her like he meant it.

“What’s so funny, Sister mine?” Harry came over breaking up the moment, his expression both wary and curious.

Hermione glanced over quickly at her brother, who’s attention was solely fixated on Malfoy.

“Prewett here, told me that she brewed Polyjuice second year.”

Harry’s expression faltered as he side-eyed Hermione in surprise.

Did she really tell Malfoy about second year?

Apparently, by her subtle nod—she had.

“She did.” Harry confirmed after a moment of silence, seeing Theo’s expression of awe and Blaise’s look of stunned disbelief.

“Successfully?” Theo inquired and Harry nodded.

“We’d thought Malfoy here, was the Heir to Slytherin. After he’d wished Hermione dead, we felt compelled to do something.” (Harry didn’t miss the way Malfoy glowered at the not-so-subtle dig about his hateful words second year).

“Who did you turn into?” Blaise asked and Harry smirked, replying smugly, “Crabbe and Goyle. Hermione brewed a sleeping draught and placed it in some cauldron cakes. They went out like a light and Ron and I took a couple hairs and infiltrated the Slytherin Common Room.”

Draco scoffed and shook his head while Blaise and Theo chuckled.

“You two are a right menace.”

“Back at you, Malfoy.” Harry quipped sarcastically and grinned when Draco’s eyes narrowed at him.

“We should get going, Sister mine,” Harry gestured for Hermione to leave with him. “We need to get to class.”

“Okay.” She went to grab her book bag and stopped cold when Malfoy took it for her and placed it over his shoulder. “That’s not necessary, Malfoy.”

“We aren’t done with our conversation, Prewett.”

“So you intend to hold my book bag hostage until I agree to what? Forgive you for being a prat?”

“Something like that.”

Hermione huffed but didn’t reply as she followed Malfoy, Blaise, Theo and Harry out into the hallway.

“I don’t think so.” She half-whispered as they walked together with the other three slightly ahead of them.

Draco stared at Potter’s back for a moment and sighed. “You didn’t tell either of them, did you?”

Hermione hesitated but shook her head in the negative, which caused Draco to quirk his lips upward in a half smirk.

“How about a compromise?” He murmured lowly, just enough that she could hear him but not so loud the three nosy wizard’s in front of them could do so.

“What kind of compromise?”

“Come brew with me next Saturday. We can talk more then. It’ll give you over a week to obsess and overthink everything to your heart’s content.”

Hermione’s head turned sharply as she leveled Malfoy with her most stern glare.

“That’s _not_ nice.”

“But _true_.” He replied glibly. “You can decide between now and then if you feel I deserve to have my memory restored and I will take whatever vow you need me to, if that makes the decision easier to make.”

Hermione’s confusion was palpable.

“How is that even possible, Malfoy? You’re not of age so you can’t enter into a vow, can you?”

Draco’s face registered surprise and then he sighed.

_How did he not see this?_

“Prewett, I’m the heir to an ancient House so of course I can swear a vow on my family magic at any time. A wizard’s vow or an unbreakable vow, you’d be right in assuming I couldn’t enter into one of those vows before I’m of age. Family magic however, is a much different story.”

Draco watched as Hermione’s face fell in horror, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes and he felt an even bigger dolt.

Now he understood why she’d chosen to obliviate him.

How had she not known this, and why didn’t they teach this stuff in school?

“Oh.” Her voice was small and unsure, and Draco just shook his head.

“Oh.” Was all he replied with however when their eyes locked for a brief moment Hermione then looked down in shame, biting her lip in worry.

“I’ll think about it?”

Draco just nodded and opened the door to their Charms class, noticing that they’d fallen behind their friends a bit. When he’d entered, he bowed his head in parting, handing her back her book bag and went to sit next to Blaise.

He’d done his part and now the rest was up to Hermione. By next Saturday he’d know whether or not she would be willing and capable of giving him another chance.


	40. Musings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione ruminates on a few things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi readers!  
Thank you for the reviews as always! I will respond sometime this week. The responses for this story have been great and I appreciate all your encouragement for this story as well as my other ones.  
You all are the best!

Saturday arrived and everyone was excited for the first Quidditch Match of the year: Slytherin versus Hufflepuff.

Hermione had to spend her entire breakfast that morning listening to Harry, Ron and Ginny going over each teams strengths and weaknesses with a singular focus that made her want to set the Quidditch Pitch on _fire_.

The thought had brought a wicked smile to her face.

She had spent the past couple days obsessing over her conversation with Malfoy, and as much as a part of her didn’t want to admit it...she couldn’t help but feel like this whole mess might’ve been avoided if she’d just had a bit more information on how vows worked.

But there was another part of her that felt that Malfoy wasn’t someone she could trust...ever.

They had so much bad blood between them for the better part of five years. At no time could she remember Malfoy ever saying a kind word to her as Hermione Granger. He’d been cruel, bigoted and had made her feel horrible more often than not. On some level, she knew that his reasons for being a prat were probably complex—but that was a hard pill to swallow when dealing with hurt feelings.

So Hermione had decided that for this next week, she was just going to silently observe Malfoy. Try and see if she could get a sense of whom he really was underneath his stoic Slytherin demeanor. Theo had told her on several occasions that Draco was loyal to those who were loyal to him.

But she had to wonder if that was really true.

All she’d ever seen from Malfoy was the bully he’d been. He had cronies...not friends. They’d followed him around because he was the biggest git of the lot...

But was that all there was to it?

She hadn’t felt much like going to watch the Quidditch match and thankfully, she had a good reason to bow out—so with that thought, Hermione found herself in the dungeons patiently waiting for the exact time to stir the Amortentia potion.

As she stared at the golden cauldron, she thought back her first day of potions this year and what she’d smelled in Slughorn’s brew.  
  
Brows furrowing, the memories of those exact smells assaulted her senses.

The new parchment could’ve been anyone really, and in her mind meant very little.

The sandlewood was a component of many essential healing balms, soaps and colognes...so while not too common, it wasn’t like it meant any specific one person.

The third smell however, had left her _reeling_.

And it had been why she’d lied and commented that it had been spearmint toothpaste when in fact—it was nothing of the sort at all.

_Green apples._

Very specific and not common at all.

Hermione’s brow furrowed even more as the _tempus_ charm timed out and she removed the silk cloth, did the proper stirring and replaced it accordingly—putting it back into its proper storage area.

Grabbing her book bag, she left the dungeons feeling a bit out of sorts.

She hadn’t admitted to anyone that she’d smelled green apples in the cauldron and she wasn’t an idiot either. There was only one person she knew of that had that particular scent associated with him on a routine basis.

_Malfoy_.

Shaking her head, she simply didn’t understand why that smell had pervaded her senses...not to the exclusion of the other two, but it had definitely been the strongest.

Perhaps that was why she’d been so adamant about obliviating Malfoy on her birthday, or why she’d been so hurt by his subsequent prattish behavior.

Because on some level, she knew she was attracted to the ferret.

And she didn’t understand why.

She was in a relationship of sorts with Adrian. She enjoyed his company and felt very comfortable with him. He didn’t excite her nor make her feel all flustered and wanton...but he was sweet, dependable and kind.

_Whereas Malfoy was a jerk._

Egotistical, smug and prattish.

He was also gorgeous, intelligent and magically powerful.

He was a walking paradox. A complete and utter enigma most days, which had left her feeling inadequate on more than one occasion.

But when he’d smiled at her Thursday and laughed spontaneously, in that moment she would be lying if she didn’t admit that Malfoy was fit.

And it _pissed_ her off.

She didn’t want to be attracted to the ferret.

She didn’t want anything to do with him...**right?**

That little voice in her head seemed to disagree with her assertions as she heard it say...

_ **You’ve always been very aware of Malfoy. Ever since first year. He was always just behind you in marks and in some cases...did even better. He challenged you to be the best witch you can be. Not in the ways you’d wished he would, but the sentiment is valid nonetheless.** _

“But he’s a prat.” Hermione mumbled to herself.

_ **True, but you’ve always assumed that you knew his reasons for being that way. What if you were wrong?** _

“I’m _not_.” Hermione mused a bit louder. “He’s a slimy git with no redeeming qualities whatsoever.”

“You do know, Miss Prewett, that taking to yourself is considered the first sign of insanity.”

Hermione’s head whipped around at the voice of her Defense Professor, who was watching her with something akin to amusement lurking in his dark gaze.

“I didn’t realize I was speaking out loud.” Hermione murmured petulantly, and she was even more embarrassed when Snape quirked that infuriating eyebrow at her that screamed he didn’t believe her—but all he replied was, “_Obviously_,” in his snarky drawl.

Hermione just stood there as Snape passed her by, his robes billowing effortlessly behind him and as she watch him move out of sight, she sighed despondently.

However was she going to deal with the mess that had become her life?

Continuing on towards the library, she eventually found her way to her favorite spot and placed her book bag on the chair next to her before reaching inside and grabbing her Transfiguration notes for the paper she needed to write on _Conjuration of inanimate objects. _

She placed all her things on the table and wandered the stacks, looking for the proper books she’d need as references to write her essay.

When she had gotten the necessary information and took it back to her table, Hermione stared out the window and she could see a small part of the Quidditch Pitch from here. The game was still in progress so library would be quiet for a while.

As she began her studying in earnest, as always—she got lost in the wonder of learning and didn’t notice how much time had passed, until she heard a chair being pulled out from across her.

Glancing up, her expression softened as she saw Theo smiling at her.

“Busy?”

“Yes.”

He leaned forward and grabbed one of her books, nodding at it after a few moments before setting it back down.

“You’ve been quiet the last week or so. Is everything alright?”

“I’m fine. Just busy.”

Theo snickered and shook his head.

“Hermione, we both know that you’re _not_ fine. But if you don’t want to talk to me about it, I can’t help you.”

Biting her lip, she just stared at Theo for a few moments. She really didn’t know how to broach the subject, but Theo did deserve to know what had happened. He’d been there for it.

Shaking her head slightly, Hermione decided to bite the bullet and explain.

“Malfoy knows I obliviated him.” She blurted out and cringed when Theo gaped and her.

“_What?!?”_

“Theo, I can’t say it any clearer than that. Malfoy knows that I _obliviated_ him.”

“How?”

“Apparently, he realized something was off when he returned to Slytherin the night of my birthday and too much time had passed. He suspected it, which is why he’s been a git this past month. He assumed that I did it against his will.”

Theo sat back stunned as he thought about what his cousin was telling him.

Then he whispered out a muttered, “**Shite**.”

“I know,” Hermione hummed emotively, “when he confronted me about it, I’m afraid I didn’t know what to do. Professor Snape checked my memories and then informed Malfoy what happened. The whole thing is just a huge mess.”

Theo pondered the information for a few moments and then asked, “How did Draco confront you?”

“It was Sunday night. I was doing prefect rounds with Ernie and we caught Malfoy and Rowle snogging in one of the empty classrooms in the dungeons. I left, and allowed Ernie to handle it since they were out after curfew. Malfoy followed me and we had an argument.”

Theo’s gaze narrowed as he could see Hermione’s discomfort.

Something else was bothering her.

“He was snogging Therese Rowle?”

Hermione nodded, refusing to make eye contact as she moved a book over to the side with one hand while she gripped her quill tightly in her other hand.

Theo silently observed Hermione, who’s demeanor screamed discomfort and sadness but there was another more surprising emotion radiating from her expression as well.

_Jealousy_.

That one took him aback a bit as he wondered how he could’ve been so blind as to not see it.

“Hermione, what are you going to do?”

“I don’t _know_,” she admitted quietly, “Malfoy wants me to meet him next Saturday when we finish our Amortentia and I have to decide whether or not to give him the memory back. Apparently he can vow on his family magic not to say anything.”

Theo’s gaze immediately dropped in shame, as he hadn’t even considered that option—he’d gone right to the idea of obliviating Malfoy and if he was honest with himself, it was because he didn’t trust Malfoy either.

And he hadn’t wanted to share that experience with anyone but Hermione.

“I’m sorry.”

Theo’s gaze lifted and he saw Hermione’s expression turn from sad to confused.

“I don’t understand.”

Theo sighed heavily, his expression filled with regret.

“I honestly didn’t even think of that as an option at the time,” his face was tight as his eyes darted away from the slowly dawning expression of understanding on Hermione’s face. “I just immediately wanted to protect you and knowing how you felt about Draco, that was my gut reaction. Perhaps if I’d explained it better? You might’ve made a different choice?”

Hermione shook her head. “Theodore Nott, this is not your fault.” Theo smirked at how determined his cousin sounded. “Malfoy hinted at something to me that night, that I should’ve been more vigilant in checking to see who might’ve been there hiding under a disillusionment charm. He’d also inferred that he was on the balcony at Adrian’s home this past summer as well.”

Theo cleared his voice before he said, “Uhm...yeah. I kinda suspected that too.”

“Really? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Shrugging uncomfortably, Theo just stared out the window at the now empty Quidditch Pitch.

“I didn’t know for sure, but I had thought I’d seen him head that way. When I found you and Adrian snogging, I thought perhaps I’d been wrong.”

“What do you think I should do?”

Theo turned his head and met Hermione’s questioning look with a small smile. “I think you need to do whatever it is you feel comfortable with.” Theo admitted earnestly. “Draco can be a bit of a prat...well—sometimes he can be worse than that but I think he’s really trying to be better—but he does tend to jump to conclusions.”

“Yeah.” Hermione bit her lip and lowered her gaze down to the table. “I just wish I could know with absolute certainty if I could trust him.”

“And I wish I could tell you unequivocally you can.”

Nodding, Hermione just sighed in despair.

She wished more than anything that she could say with absolute conviction that what she’d done with Malfoy had been the right choice—but she couldn’t. She’d always had a negative knee jerk reaction to Malfoy’s taunts and had given like responses in kind. He’d never made things easy for her, nor had he ever cut her any slack. He’d been a bully and a git—and those personality traits were hard for her to overlook.

But Theo had mentioned that Malfoy was loyal to those who were loyal to him.

Shaking her head subtly, Hermione had no reason to wonder if that might’ve been true as she’d never given much thought to having any kind of contact with Malfoy beyond the cursory pleasantries she might’ve been expected to engage in now that they were in the same social circles.

“It’s a hard decision to make.” She mumbled lowly and saw Theo nodding his head from the corner of her eye.

“It is, and one you shouldn’t make lightly.” Theo replied sympathetically. “I could talk to him if you want?”

Shaking her head, Hermione didn’t think anything good would come from that idea.

“No, it’s fine. This is between Malfoy and me, and as much as I’m loathe to admit it—I’m as much to blame for this mess as he is. Our history is horrible, and it’s likely that even if he’d offered to swear a vow on his family’s magic, my gut instinct would’ve still been to obliviate him. I can’t help that I feel guilty for doing it, even with his permission—but I didn’t think that he’d notice anything untoward either.”

“No, I get it.” Theo agreed readily. “Draco hasn’t exactly made a positive impression on many people.”

Giggling, Hermione nodded. “I think that’s an understatement, Theo.”

Smiling widely, Theo just chuckled and hummed in agreement.

“So a week to decide?”

“Yep.”

“Whatever you decide Hermione, I’ll support it.”

“I know Theo, and for what it’s worth—finding out we’re family and having you in my life has been one of the best things to come out of this entire mess.”

Theo blushed and bowed his head in humble thanks. “I hope you know the feeling is mutual, Hermione.”

“I know.” She smiled genuinely then gestured to her books. “But I need to finish my homework. You staying?”

Theo shook his head. “I’m going to head back to the Slytherin Common Room for a bit. We won today, so there will be a celebration.”

“Joy.” Hermione snickered. “Have fun.”

“Will do.”

Hermione watched her cousin head out of the stacks towards the front entrance to the library and she smiled.

Theodore Nott was an unexpected happy gift in all this weirdness, and she was glad to have him in her life.


	41. Butterflies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione make a bit of progress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven’t been posting lately. Graduate school and work has been keeping me busy. Hope you like the next installment! Thank you for the kudos and comments! It keeps me motivated to keep writing!

The following week had dragged to a standstill as Hermione had found herself with a case of Malfoy on the brain.

She’d silently watched him over the course of the week, and it had been an eye-opener.

On Monday evening, she’d found him in the library after dinner—studying with Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini. In between working on his assignments, he was tutoring Crabbe and Goyle in Charms and Herbology and in between doing her Runes homework, she kept glancing surreptitiously at the small group of Slytherins and she’d been amazed at how patient Malfoy had been helping his...friends?

Could she really call them cronies if Malfoy was taking the time to make sure Crabbe and Goyle were doing well in their classes?

_Hadn’t she done the same for Harry and Ron over the years?_

Tuesday, on the way to Arithmancy, she’d caught Malfoy talking to a couple of older Ravenclaw witches, his expression tight and unyielding. He was holding something in his hand before he put it into his book bag, and Hermione couldn’t quite make it out at first. It wasn’t until right before dinner she’d seen him outside the Great Hall handing whatever it was to Luna. The Ravenclaw’s smile was genuine as she nodded at the Slytherin and then skipped into dinner.

But it wasn’t until the next afternoon, that Ginny had told her that two seventh year Ravenclaw witches had been harassing Luna repeatedly and taking her shoes—hiding them in the castle.

Harry had overheard the story too, his own expression angry on their friend’s behalf.

Everyone had been gobsmacked at how Malfoy had stood up for Luna.

Thursday had been a quiet day, but in the evening Malfoy was back in the library, studying with a few Slytherin underclassmen. He was tutoring them in Potions, and she silently watched how he helped not only a few of the fifth years—but several first and second years, who came to him with questions.

_How had she never noticed this before?_

On Friday, the most shocking moment of the week had come.

She was walking down the fourth floor corridor, heading back to Gryffindor Tower from class, when she heard Malfoy’s voice—but it was who he was talking to that brought her up short.

“What happened?” His voice was calm and kind.

“Those two boys were mean to me again.”

It was Sally’s voice, and it was clear she had been crying.

Hermione heard Draco sigh heavily, and then she heard some shuffling before he spoke again.

“I’m so sorry, Sally. I promise, I will have another talk with them again.”

A few more sniffles could be heard and then Sally responded. “Why do they _hate_ me so much? I’ve never done anything to them? _I don’t even know them!”_

Hermione heard Draco sigh again and then she heard a bit more shuffling, almost as if he was leading Sally to sit down.

“I know this isn’t easy to understand, Sally,” Draco began, “but there are many witches and wizards who feel that those born of Muggle parents have no right to be here. Some feel that muggleborns _steal_ their magic.”

“That’s just _barmy!” _Sally replied indignantly, causing Hermione to smile. “That makes no sense? How is one supposed to steal magic?”

There was a lengthy pause, so Hermione silently moved down the corridor a bit so she could hear their conversation better.

She was stunned when she heard Draco chuckle.

“_That’s a very good question.”_

“And?”

“A magical core can be drained, but the truth is I’ve never heard of a spell to transfer magic from one person to another. Now, there are specific bonds that can strengthen magic between a mated couple, but I’m unsure how magic might be stolen.”

“Like werewolves?”

“And just what would a first year know about werewolf bonds?”

Hermione grinned even wider as she heard Sally huff. “I can _read_ you know.”

This got a barked laugh out of Malfoy, and Hermione felt herself giggling before quickly clamping a hand over her mouth.

“Merlin, little witch, you sound just like someone else I know.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm,” Draco drawled with amusement, before his voice took on a serious edge. “Do me a favor, okay?”

“What?”

“From now on, walk with a friend or two around the hallways. Don’t go anywhere alone if you can help it. I will talk to my classmates again, but sometimes it’s better not to give gits like that an opening.”

“Okay.” Sally replied softly.

Hermione heard them stand up. She was quick to disillusion herself and place a silencing charm up as she watched Malfoy and Sally move back around the corner. She smiled when the little Gryffindor gave Malfoy a hug, and felt her heart soften when Malfoy hugged the girl back.

“Stay out of trouble, okay?”

“I’ll try, but I make no promises.”

Draco chuckled and nodded as he watched the little witch scamper down the hallway with a indulgent expression on his face.

Then it morphed into a scowl as he headed back down towards the dungeons and Hermione had to wonder just what he was going to do to his two Slytherin classmates.

Her answer had come the next morning, when Selwyn and his friend walked morosely into the Great Hall for breakfast. Their faces and arms were covered in red hives...an itching hex had been placed—and Hermione smirked to herself while everyone laughed at the two.

When Draco sauntered in a few moments later, he caught Sally’s eye and winked at her—and Hermione giggled softly at the pleased expression on the firstie’s face.

It would seem that Draco Malfoy had his very own fan club by the swooning looks he was getting from the first and second year Gryffindor witches.

Shaking her head, Hermione couldn’t help but wonder where the old Draco Malfoy had gone, and if this _new_ version was just a blip or something more permanent.

Hours later, she was still pondering those questions as she made her way into the potions classroom where Draco was standing by his normal station, working on his Polyjuice potion.

“Hi.”

Grey eyes lifted and a small smile quirked over the corner of his lips.

“You came.”

“I said I would.”

Malfoy didn’t respond as his attention was back on his potions making. Hermione noticed he had the fluxweed and knotgrass measured, and at his station was a brass cauldron.

“Why a brass cauldron?”

“It cuts down the brewing time in the first step by twelve minutes, which I’m sure you’re aware...” he smirked at her and she nodded, waiting for him to elaborated further...which he did after a moment, “But brass is the best thermal exchanger of heat of the three cauldron choices. Electrical and thermal.”

Hermione’s eyes widened comically. “You know about electricity?”

Draco’s expression was smug, but he nodded in response. “Yes, Draco Malfoy knows about electricity. Shocking!”

She choked in her laughter. “That was truly awful, Malfoy.”

His light chuckle had her stomach fluttering a bit and she couldn’t help but smile in response. She perused his work station and hummed thoughtfully to herself as she noticed the mortar, pestle, lacewing flies and leeches all separated in their proper containers.

“So, you brewed this second year?”

Hermione’s head shot up as she took in Malfoy’s questioning look.

“I did.”

“Impressive.”

“Thanks.”

He nodded and started the potion-making process measuring the fluxweed carefully then adding it to the cauldron. She observed quietly as the first step was completed effortlessly and allowed to simmer for 68 minutes exactly.

Checking the time, she noticed that it was about twenty minutes until their Amortentia was completed and could be bottled.

“Are you here every Saturday?”

Malfoy shrugged. “No. Sometimes I’m here on Sundays too. I have to watch my schedule closely to make sure that whatever I choose to brew, I can be here at the exact timed intervals to stir or add ingredients. So my schedule for the next few months is relatively set.”

“Are you planning on getting your potions Mastery after school?”

Draco gazed at her briefly, before he moved over to the potions closet to grab a few things. When he came back, Hermione noticed he had a few smaller containers that he set down next to his ingredients.

“My internship with Severus will cut my mastery time in half. I should be done with it a year after school ends. I’m researching a few ideas for improving Dreamless Sleep as well as combining a calming draught with a standard pain potion.”

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. “That’s intriguing. How close are you?”

“To figuring it out?”

She nodded.

“I have a few formulaic ideas for the latter, but I’ve hit a bit of a stumbling block on the Dreamless sleep. I’ll figure it out eventually.”

She didn’t respond, not wanting to feed into Malfoy’s ego anymore than strictly necessary even if he was rather brilliant at potions.

The remainder of the time was met in silence as she watched him prepare the next ingredients with precision and when his wand vibrated, he set aside his preparation and sauntered over to where their Amortentia had been left. He uncovered the gold cauldron and placed the silk cloth on the table, and she could see the perfectly pearlescent sheen of their finished product.

Malfoy eyed her for a split second before he took a whiff of the potion, his eyes glazing for a second before he smirked.

“Well?” She asked curiously.

“Why don’t you take a whiff for yourself and you tell me?”

Reluctantly, Hermione made her way over and took a small sniff of the potion...her eyes closing briefly as she smelled the fragrant smells of new parchment, sandlewood and green apples. Stepping back, she nodded once refusing to make eye contact with Malfoy...who’s gaze was scope-locked on her.

“So, _what_ do you smell, Miss Prewett?”

“You first, Malfoy.”

Hermione’s expression was even but Malfoy just grinned as he tilted his head in acquiescence.

“Fine.” He chuckled again in that infuriating way that made him look delectable. “I smell old books, ink, vanilla and plumeria.”

Her eyes flew up to his in shock.

She used vanilla bath oil daily and her perfume had both notes of vanilla and plumeria.

It was a strange coincidence, right?

“And you?”

She cleared her throat and said unconvincingly. “Uhm...new parchment, sandlewood and spearmint toothpaste.”

She watched Draco’s eyebrow lift but he didn’t refute her claim, he just slowly turned around and bottled their finished product for Professor Slughorn.

“Have you given any thought as to what we discussed last week?” He eventually said, as he set aside their potion and covered the gold cauldron with the silk cloth again.

“I have.”

“And?”

Hermione sighed. She was still reluctant to trust Malfoy after everything that had happened between them, but it wasn’t his fault that he’d been in the wrong place at the right time.

“You’d really swear an oath?”

“On my family magic?” He queried, and she nodded. “Yes, Prewett. I would have no problem doing so.”

Biting her lip, Hermione was about to speak with the classroom door opened and in walked the one witch she’d rather not see.

“There you _are_.”

Malfoy turned around and Hermione could feel his irritation as he watched the buxom witch enter the room.

“Therese, what can I do for you?”

“I thought we had plans for today?”

Hermione seethed inwardly as the blonde witch came over and placed a possessive hand on Malfoy’s arm.

“No, I told you I was busy.” His voice was short and clipped. “How is Ivan?”

Hermione watched Rowle’s expression morph into a pinched look as she stared at Malfoy.

“He is fine.” She said with faux sweetness. “But he knows that we’ve been spending time together, Draco. He’s not a jealous wizard.”

Draco sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’s too bad.” He drawled coldly. “Perhaps that might work for him, but I’m not into sharing, Therese. What we had is over and if you’d told me about the betrothal before, I would’ve never allowed our assignation to get as far as it did.”

Hermione’s face was passive, but inside her stomach was doing pole vaults as she watched the scene play before her.

“You _knew_, Draco.”

Malfoy put his hand up and shook his head. “I knew you two were seeing each other, but I didn’t know your families had all but the signed contracts in place. Imagine my surprise when I got a nice little letter from Thorfinn asking me what my intentions were? Did you seek to try and _trap_ me?”

The Slytherin witch just scowled. “You know that wasn’t my intention, Draco. We were just having a bit of fun.”

Malfoy nodded. “And now it’s _done_.” His voice was cutting as he waved his hand towards the door. “Now, if you wouldn’t mind? I’m fairly busy and have no time to rehash this with you. Give my best to Ivan.”

Therese’s lips pursed as she sent Hermione a scathing look, then swept out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

After a few moments of silence, Hermione noticed that Malfoy looked tired.

“I’m sorry?”

Grey eyes lifted and held hers for a moment. “Don’t be. It’s my own fault. I knew she was seeing Ivan, but I didn’t know how serious is was until recently. I had heard rumors, but I tend to ignore such musings. Perhaps this time I should’ve done my due diligence a bit better.”

“When did you find out?”

“The night you found us.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm,” Malfoy hummed in acknowledgement. “I was angry, and I didn’t handle it very well. What you likely saw that night was the result of that irritation.”

“Towards me? Or her?”

Draco smirked. “Touché,” he shook his head again, “for what it’s worth? I’m sorry if I didn’t handle any of this very well. Like I said, my emotions have been a bit off this past month. I don’t think I even recognized it myself until that night.”

“Do you think if I gave you back the memories, you might be better?”

“I don’t know to be honest. Even Severus couldn’t tell me for sure.”

Dipping her head down in shame, Hermione bit her lip hard as she contemplated what to do.

After a few moments of internal debate, she moved over into Malfoy’s space and said quietly, “I’m sorry too, for what it’s worth. I didn’t know about the option of a vow and I allowed my own fear and distrust of our shared past to influence my decision. For that, I apologize.”

Draco sighed. “Prewett..._Hermione_...” her eyes widened at the use of her first name, even as her stomach swarmed with butterflies at how sensual it sounded coming out of Malfoy’s mouth. “Our past is less than stellar, it’s true. I’ve been a right git to you and I wish I could tell you that the spoilt prat I was, isn’t still a part of me. But I can promise you that I’m trying to be better and do better.”

“I know.” She smiled slightly. “I _know_ you are.”

Draco swallowed heavily and nodded. “I vow on my family magic, as a Malfoy that whatever you share with me now and in the future will be held in the strictest of confidences..._so mote it be.”_

Hermione’s eyes felt like they were starting to water slightly as she felt the force of the magical vow take hold ever them both, and she swallowed tightly as she gently placed her hands on Malfoy’s cheeks...his own hands coming up to hold her into place.

Then she spoke into his mind.

“_Malfoy?”_

After a second or two, his voice answered. “Yes.”

He then watched as Hermione showed him the way into the Hogwarts library in his mind. They walked together down a long aisle until they reached a shelf where there were several editions of Hogwarts a History.

Inwardly, Draco chuckled as he said deeply, “I should’ve known.”

He could feel Hermione’s responded mirth as she opened the book and took out the key that had been banished there. She then noticed herself back in the same stark room she’d been in before and saw the door in the middle of the room. Walking up to it, she took in her surroundings, but didn’t see any pewter box, so she opened the door...once...twice until she noticed a small box over in the corner of the room. Walking over, she picked it up and held it inside her hands...her mind silently asking Malfoy for permission to open it.

“Go ahead, witch.”

She grinned and then took the key and unlocked the box...opening it and allowing the memory to come forth.

She watched in awe as Draco relived that night...and everything that had happened. She felt his shock, wonder and awe as he watched the scene unfold before him a second time. When she nipped at him in her animagus form, she felt his chest rumble in amusement and when Theo confronted him and then right before the fateful memory charm was placed...she felt his sadness and despair.

Then she felt his gratitude, pleasure and peace.

“Thank you, Hermione.” His voice was husky and playful, just like it had been that night.

“You’re welcome, Draco.”

She felt his pleased emotions as she said his given name into his mind but not wishing to belabor the point, she broke eye contact immediately.

When she went to remove her hands from his cheeks, she felt his own hands grip hers a bit tighter and she gazed up into his grey eyes as he considered her heatedly.

“Can I ask a question?” He murmured.

She continued to stare up into his eyes and nodded.

“This thing with Adrian? Is it serious?”

Hermione’s breath caught and she bit her lip as she felt trapped in an endless stormy abyss that was watching her avidly, waiting for her response.

After a moment she said softly, “I don’t know.”

He hummed and then smirked. “When you figure it out, do let me know.”

“Why?” She blurted out stunned and felt his chest rumble beneath hers again, as he smiled lopsidedly...his expression soft and warm.

It was as disconcerting as it was charming.

“Because I fully intend to court you, Miss Prewett. But I won’t do so until you give me permission. I won’t assume to do that again, where you’re concerned.”

She just rolled her eyes even as her stomach erupted in butterflies.

“You’re assuming I want to be courted by you, Malfoy.”

He leant forward and then whispered into her ear hotly, “I know that you fibbed to me about your Amortentia, witch. When you’re ready to admit what it was you _really_ smelled, please let me know.”

And with that, she felt his hands leave hers as he turned around to complete his potions tasks.

Staring at him completely flabbergasted, Hermione wasn’t sure what to think about anything right now and she couldn’t leave the room fast enough...missing the pleased grin on Malfoy’s face as she left him to his potions making.


	42. Vengence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Within Azkaban...a plot is hatched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely comments and kudos. School has been busy so posting has been a bit slower and I still haven’t responded to the comments but I will!

The shores of Azkaban were unusually frigid for this time of year, but that didn’t deter the wizard who had managed to sneak away on a magical boat transport that ferried essentials from the Ministry to the prison twice a month. 

Ever since the fall of the Dark Lord, Peter Pettigrew had remained in hiding—especially since it had been revealed that he had been the one to betray the Potter’s when Sirius name had been cleared after that debacle at the Ministry in June.

So he’d done what he’d always done best...ran away and hid in plain site. 

No one ever gave him any notice in this form, and as such—he could come and go as he pleased with no one with wiser.

He’d read the Prophet the day after the Dark Lord had fallen, and had been shocked that Harry Potter had vanquished his former Master. Then the article about the Prewett girl had made the rounds, and Peter knew whom it was who’d really vanquished the Dark Lord.

To say he was surprised that Fabian Prewett and Marlene McKinnon had a child together and they’d secretly married, was another stunning development.

He’d been the one to out the McKinnon family’s location to Dolohov, who had vowed to end both Marlene and Fabian’s life due to some sick twisted obsession he’d harbored for Marlene since she had been fifteen.

Antonin liked his witches _young_, and he was always one of the first to go out on Muggle raids...his reputation and perversions were well known amongst the inner circle of Death Eaters.

Peter had no idea what had really transpired that night at the Ministry, but he knew enough to know that Hermione Prewett was a Sorceress, and he also knew there was someone who would be very interested in that information.

It had taken him months of watching and waiting to get to this moment.

As he scampered into the cold, dank prison—he could feel the dementors from where he was, but he kept moving deeper and further into the darkness until he finally found the cell he was looking for.

Moving through the bars, Pettigrew scuttled quietly into the small confines of Dolohov’s prison cell and then he stopped when he heard the wizard wheeze out a delighted snort.

“Well, well, well...” the Russian wizard’s voice drawled out with its thick accent. “I never thought I’d see you again, Pettigrew.”

Peter morphed back into his human body and stared beady-eyed at the cold black eyes of the Dark Lord’s most valued servant.

Bellatrix Lestrange might’ve been a powerful witch, but her placement within the inner circle had been initially due to her husband’s proximity to Voldemort. She had been nearly as unhinged as the elder Lestrange, and just as bloodthirsty...but the woman had no mind for strategy, nor planning...only for her cruelty.

Dolohov however, had been a brilliant curse breaker before he’d killed the Prewett brother’s and had been sent to Azkaban for it. 

He’d plotted, planned and created curses for the Dark Lord. 

He’d often _led_ the revels and was widely known as a sadist.

He’d _enjoyed_ inflicting pain, and had made it an art form, only second to the Dark Lord himself.

_The man was truly evil._

Rumor had it that when he’d found the McKinnon family, he’d killed them all save for Marlene.

There had been talk that he’d raped the witch before killing her, but Peter doubted that. Marlene McKinnon had been a powerful witch and would’ve never allowed any wizard to take her against her will. 

It was more likely that Dolohov killed her in a jealous rage.

“Why are you here?” Dolohov inquired, his voice grating bit his eyes were blazing as he considered the small, rotund wizard.

“You know the Dark Lord is dead?”

Dolohov’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t refute the comment as he continued to stare with that fathomless gaze of his.

“Everyone is speculating that Potter did the deed.” Peter went on, and wasn’t surprised when Dolohov sneered at the mention of the Boy Who Lived.

“And?”

“So you don’t know?”

“Know what?”

“That Marlene and Fabian had a _child?”_

Dolohov’s eyes widened as he leant forward and licked his lips.

“What are you talking about?” Dolohov growled. “There was no child, no sign of a child when I dispatched the McKinnon family.”

“I’m unsure _how_ she survived, but I do know that she did. She was hidden under a powerful glamour charm.”

“Who?”

“The mudblood best friend of Potter.”

The loud hiss caused Peter to turn his head towards the entrance, as he heard footsteps approaching from down the corridor. Quickly changing back into his animagus form, he swiftly scurried over behind the basin and waited.

A moment later he heard a scathing voice calling out.

“What’s the matter, Death Eater?” The harshness of the prison guard’s words rang through the dank space of the small cell. “Not enjoying your time here?”

Dolohov chuckled, and Peter could just imagine the expression on Antonin’s face. “On the contrary, blood traitor? I’m enjoying my sabbatical just fine.”

“Sabbatical?” The voice barked out a laugh. “News flash scum, you’ll be here for the rest of your miserable life.”

“We’ll see.”

Peter heard the snort of disgust and then footsteps retreating as he waited for a few moments before coming out from his hiding spot and changing back into his human form.

Dolohov’s eyes blazed at him. “I need to get out of here.”

Peter just nodded. “I’m working on it. I’ll see if I can steal one of the guards wands, but it might take me a bit to make it happen.”

Antonin sneered. “Two weeks, rat.”

The rotund wizard sighed and nodded again.

He was about to leave when the Russian’s voice stopped him cold.

“The mudblood? She’s a Prewett?”

“Yes.”

“Marlene _married_ that blood traitor?”

“Yes.” Peter’s voice shook slightly as he saw the feral gleam on the older wizard’s face. “And if rumor is to be believed, their daughter is a Sorceress.”

Antonin’s face blanched before his lips quirked up into a pleased smirk.

“She killed the Dark Lord!” He cackled to himself. “I knew the Potter brat couldn’t have been the one to dispatch our Lord.”

Peter didn’t reply, as he had wondered the same thing but had no proof of it one way or the other.

“Two weeks, Pettigrew,” Dolohov demanded, “I have a _witch_ to find.”

The beady-eyed wizard bobbed his head and morphed back into his rat form, before squeezing back through the bars and biding his time.

He’d need to find a wand and a portkey if possible.

He had to wonder just what Dolohov’s plans were for the Prewett witch. 

Something told him that he probably should be very concerned for the young Gryffindor witch, but he owed Dolohov.

Back in his cell, Dolohov smiled to himself. 

He hadn’t thought about Marlene McKinnon in a very long time. Not since right after he’d killed her and her family. 

He thought back upon that night with chuckle. Her parents and brother had been dispatched easily enough, but she had been a tougher challenge. He’d taken Rookwood and Yaxley with him after Pettigrew had outed their hideout. Rookwood had killed the youngest McKinnon while Yaxley had taken care of the parents easily enough. He’d found Marlene upstairs, barricaded behind several wards...and it had taken him a bit to get through them. When he had, she’d fired the first volley...a modified _confringo_ to his face that left him with the scar he still carried down his left cheek. She had been vicious, and it was only when Rookwood had joined the fun, they’d gotten the upper hand on the vixen—her body broken and bleeding.

But before he could claim her as he’d desperately wanted...she’d pulled out a vial of something and ingested it quickly. 

It was only after—in his rage, he’d realized she’d poisoned herself to prevent herself from being taken hostage.

She knew him well enough, that he would’ve taken her as his own and it angered him that she’d rather die than to submit.

He’d gone after the Prewett brother’s soon after in his thirst for revenge...killing them both and landing himself in Azkaban for it.

_He didn’t regret it for a second._

But to find out they’d married and had a child together? 

It made Antonin feel many things at once.

He remembered the _mudblood witch_ he’d dueled in the Department of Mysteries, but he didn’t remember much beyond that.

Had she obliviated him or had it been someone else?

Shaking his head, the thought came to him that it had likely been Dumbledore. 

That fucking menace! 

Someone should’ve ended that wizard a long time ago!

However, it didn’t matter at this point. In a few weeks he’d be free and if he wasn’t allowed to claim the mother; well—the daughter would have to suffice. 

The fact that she was a Sorceress was problematic, but not insurmountable for someone of his talents.

She’d be his soon enough.


	43. The New Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Slytherin versus Ravenclaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers...I am excited to get this new chapter out to you and will respond to comments by the weekend. Graduate school is keeping me busy so I’m not able to update as frequently but I haven’t forgotten! Thank you!

The second match of the Quidditch season was taking place today—and Hermione, Theo and Harry were all attending the event to see Slytherin and Ravenclaw battle it out.

Hermione had spent the last several weeks in Malfoy’s company on the days he was brewing his polyjuice, and it would finally be done by this time next week. She had been simply amazed by his dedication to potions and noted that his obvious love of the discipline was more than just having Severus Snape as a godfather...Malfoy really seemed to be in his element.

She hadn’t forgotten his words from that afternoon, nor her own feelings on the subject, but true to her cautious nature? Hermione hadn’t said nor done anything beyond just trying to get to know Malfoy better as a quasi-pseudo-friend.

They had tons in common and they would often joke or laugh over the same things. But the biggest surprise had been how much Hermione found herself looking forward to those afternoons. Once she’d decided to give a Malfoy a chance, she found that the wizard was really trying to change his old hateful habits.

Sally was his _biggest fan by far. _

The little Gryffindor firstie and her group of friends could often be found staring at Malfoy and giggling to themselves over breakfast, lunch and dinner. Malfoy, if he noticed, played it rather cool but every once in a while he’d catch Sally’s eye and wink at her playfully—causing the little witch to blush.

The two fifth year Slytherin boys had left Sally alone, and the rest of Malfoy’s house seemed to be on their best behavior.

Even some of the other Houses were starting to take notice of the changing demeanor amongst those wearing the green and silver. 

Ron had even commented on it when he’d noticed Zabini joking with Padma Patil and Micheal Corner one afternoon, saying that everyone was acting ‘_mental_’ and he was sure it was all some big ruse or another.

The day was perfect though, and once they’d reached the pitch, Theo gestured to the Slytherin stands.

“I’m going to go and sit with my House. You two want to join me?”

Harry shook his head. “Nah, I’m going to go sit with Luna in Ravenclaw.”

Theo nodded and then turned to give Hermione his full attention. “What about you, Hermione?”

Sighing, Hermione shrugged. “I usually don’t come to these things when Gryffindor isn’t playing.”

Both wizard’s chuckled, but Theo decided to take care and grabbed Hermione’s hand, pulling her up into the Slytherin stands with him.

Harry just waved at them in parting, heading towards the Ravenclaw area.

“You really hate Quidditch that much?” Theo asked in amusement and Hermione just side-eyed him with a shake of her head.

“I don’t especially care for the game, or get why everyone is so obsessed with it but I can appreciate some of its finer points.”

“Like Krum?”

That got a giggle and a nod from the witch. “Quidditch uniforms are rather fetching.” She demurred with a wink.

“So you are a typical witch.”

“Just because I can appreciate the male form in all its splendor, doesn’t mean I’m going to lose my rational mind just because a wizard happens to look good in his Quidditch garb.”

“Whatever you say, cousin.”

They finally had reached the stands, and Theo led her to sit next to Daphne, Tracey Davis and Daphne’s younger sister Astoria.

“Hey, ladies.”

“Theodore.” Daphne smiled and nodded, her eyebrows then lifting in surprise as whom Theo had with him. “Hermione, welcome.”

“Thanks.” She nodded and sat down next to Daphne with Theo on her other side. “Apparently, I’ve been appropriated as an honorary Slytherin today.”

“Well, we should win this match fairly easily.”

“I don’t know about that,” Hermione admitted slyly, “Cho is a fairly good Seeker.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tracey piped in, “Draco has been working our team like a wizard possessed. He’s adamant they’re going to win the Quidditch Cup this season.”

Hermione just snorted out a guffaw, to the amused looks of those sitting there. “And Harry is just as obsessed. It’s a miracle those two haven’t managed to kill each other yet.”

Everyone chuckled and nodded in agreement. A few more minutes of chit chat and then Hermione heard a voice speak up from behind her and to her left.

“They’ll let anyone up here now?”

Turning to glance over her shoulder, Hermione rolled her eyes at the hateful looks being sent her way from Pansy, Olivia Shardlow and Millicent Bullstrode.

“Leave it be.” Theo warned, his voice hard as ice. “My cousin is here as my guest.”

Theo’s blue eyes pierced the witches with a warning, letting them know that Hermione was under his protection...the protection of House Nott. If they wanted to try something untoward, Theo had no doubt Hermione could take care of herself but a offer of protection wasn’t something that anyone in Slytherin would easily dismiss and by the looks on the faces of those around them...they understood it too.

Pansy’s face pinched, and Shardlow just looked like she was going to be ill—but Millicent glared angrily.

“I didn’t take you as a traitor to your own House, Nott.”

Theo scoffed. “Don’t be _daft_, Millie. You know the importance of family just like we all do. Family comes _before_ House loyalty and while I suppose it doesn’t mean as much to some,” Theo’s voice was dripping with disdain as he returned the glare of the hefty witch, “My Father would be _most displeased_ should I not show my cousin the deference she deserves.”

Hermione placed a hand on Theo’s arm and squeezed it softly as she spoke silently into his mind. “Not worth it, Theo. They’re just embittered witches.”

“True enough.” His voice replied under his breath, and he turned back around, dismissing the conversation for the time being.

A few more moments of causal conversation passed, before the teams were announced and Hermione watched as both Ravenclaw and Slytherin flew out onto the field.

She immediately noticed Cho Chang, the captain of the Ravenclaw team, wave her hand to her players as they moved into their proper positions, while Malfoy flew with his teammates over to the far side of the pitch and looked to be giving them some last minute instructions before they too, took their rightful spots hovering above the playing pitch.

When his gaze caught her’s, he lifted an eyebrow and smirked as if he was amused to see her sitting in the Slytherin stands but the connection was fleeting, as Madam Hooch blew her whistle and everyone edged forward for the start of the game.

At the second blow of the whistle, Madam Hooch released the quaffle into the air, the snitch and bludger speeding away and the game began in earnest.

Slytherin had a formidable team this year as it was comprised of sixth and seventh year’s only. Malfoy was the Seeker of course, Zabini a chaser along with Urquhart, Crabbe and Goyle were both the beaters and Vaisey had moved from the Chaser position this year to Keeper, taking Miles Bletchley’s post after the Slytherin Keeper had graduated this past June.

Hermione watched with interest (or as much as she could feign being forced to watch Quidditch) but at least Theo was thoughtful and took his time to explain a few things to her, here and there. At one point Crabbe sent to bludger towards one of the Chasers on the Ravenclaw team and nearly knocked the wizard off his broom...and in the ensuing drama, Hermione noticed the snitch hovering near the Ravenclaw goal post.

Malfoy must’ve seen it too, for he moved in that direction...Cho following him closely. When he got to the lowest hoop, he shot up vertically and came under the Ravenclaw Keeper, nearly knocking him off his broom too, and then he turned a sharp 90 degrees towards the Ravenclaw stands—the snitch also moving in that direction.

Then the snitch banked down hard towards the ground, with both Malfoy and Cho following...neck in neck.

Cho was the first to pull up about fifteen feet from the ground, but Malfoy flattened his body along his broom and did a sideways turn almost six feet off the ground, and as soon as Hermione saw his hand come out...he crashed into the pitch...and everyone was shouting and pointing at the blonde as he fisted his hand to his chest trying desperately to catch his breath—as the game raged on above him.

Then he lifted his right hand...snitch firmly within his grasp and the whistle blew for the final time.

“_Slytherin Wins!”_

Everyone in their vicinity started to cheer like mad, while Hermione clapped and rolled her eyes but inside she was genuinely concerned about Malfoy.

_What in Merlin’s name was he thinking?_

“Do you think he’s hurt?” She murmured to Theo, and her cousin just chuckled.

“If he is, he probably couldn’t care less seeing that Slytherin won the match.”

They moved down the stands, watching all the rest of the snakes cheering and high-fiving each other like they’d won the game themselves.

Over the railing on the way down, she noticed Madam Hooch levitating Malfoy and taking him most likely to the infirmary to be checked over.

Theo noticed too and once they’d found Harry again, the three of them plus Luna made their way back inside the castle.

“That was a good game.” Harry’s expression was surprised, but there was a tinge of worry too.

Obviously Slytherin played much better than he’d expected them too.

“They’ve been practicing hard.” Theo replied, giving Harry a mischievous grin.

“I do hope Draco is okay.” Luna’s angelic voice mumbled as she skipped along next to Harry, her expression clearly concerned for the Slytherin Seeker.

“Maybe we should go check on him?” Theo offered kindly, and Luna smiled and nodded while both Harry and Hermione grinned at the two of them.

Harry caught her eye and nudged his chin in their general direction as he mouthed, “They’re cute together.”

Hermione smiled and nodded, following Theo and Luna as they made their way to the infirmary.

Once there, Luna meandered inside, not worried in the least that the other Slytherin Quidditch Players might not want her there. 

But it didn’t seem an issue as Draco smiled warmly at the younger witch and said kindly, “Hey, Luna.”

“Hello, Draco,” her voice had that dreamy Luna quality as her bright blue eyes considered the blonde wizard. “That was a very interesting way to catch the snitch.”

Draco chuckled, then winced as he gripped his chest in pain with his right hand. “Well, I fractured a few ribs and shattered my left arm but I’ll be good as new in a day or two.”

Blaise and Vaisey just shook their heads while Crabbe and Goyle didn’t know what to say.

Theo came over and sat down next to his dorm-mate and grinned.

“Nice job.”

“Thanks, Theo.” Draco’s gaze then locked with Hermione and he winked, before seeing Potter standing just behind her.

“Potter.”

“Malfoy.” Harry smirked. “That was quite the crash.”

“At least I caught the snitch.”

Harry nodded, his expression amused. “Heal up. You won’t win so easily against Gryffindor.”

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes. “Piss off, Potter,” Draco’s sneer wasn’t serious, but Hermione could tell that the Slytherin was both amused and irritated by his nemesis being there.

“Sure, Malfoy.” Harry turned to leave and then said, “You coming, Mione?”

“I’ll be down in a bit, Harry.”

Harry just hummed but didn’t reply as he walked out of the infirmary. He was followed after a few moments by the Slytherin Quidditch Team and then Luna said her goodbyes.

Theo stood up and moved over towards his cousin. “You want to head the the library?”

“I’ll be there soon, Theo. I want to ask Malfoy a question.”

If Theo was concerned, he didn’t show it as he nodded and left quietly. Once he was gone, Hermione moved over and sat down in the chair next to Draco’s bed...her expression wary.

“That was reckless, Malfoy.” Her voice reminded Draco of how she’d often reprimand Weasley and Potter for doing something ridiculously harebrained.

“Nonsense,” he quipped back with a smirk of his own, “I’m a little banged up, but nothing that a good nights sleep and some skelegro won’t fix just fine.” His face softened a bit and his voice lowered a fraction as he asked, “Are you worried about me, Princess?”

Hermione huffed and folded her arms over her chest defiantly. “No! I jut think it’s ridiculous how you all play that game without a thought for your safety and well-being.”

“It’s fun.” He bit back with a grin and Hermione groaned at how ridiculous this all was.

Madame Pomfrey came over at that moment with a bottle of skelegro and a sleeping drought.

“Here you go, Mr. Malfoy.”

Draco’s lips thinned as he eyed the skelegro distastefully, causing Hermione to chuckle softly.

“No big deal, right, Malfoy?”

“Shut it, witch.” He groused but held out his right hand for the tonic, taking a small sniff of it before he put it to his lips and forced himself to swallow it down. His entire body shuddered in revulsion at how nasty the potion tasted and he took the sleeping drought with a nod of thanks, swallowing it too before he handed the vials back to the Medi Witch.

“Thank you, Madame Pomfrey.”

The older witch’s expression registered surprise for a split second, then her face softened as she said kindly, “You’re very welcome, Mr. Malfoy. Get some rest if you can.”

He nodded and watched the Medi Witch leave him alone with Hermione.

“You should head down and meet Theo, before he comes searching for you again.”

“I’ll be fine, Malfoy.” Hermione’s voice started to sound like it was coming from far away and he smiled widely.

“Thank you for coming and watching the match today.” He said, his voice tired and slurring slightly and Hermione just shook her head and gazed at him softly.

“Go to sleep, Malfoy. Sweet dreams.”

Hermione stood up to leave and stopped cold when she heard Malfoy say faintly, right before he succumbed to slumber, “s’ways good. Dreams of you.”

Her expression was shocked and she stared down into the relaxed face of Malfoy, who looked peaceful and utterly adorable...and she shook her head clear.

He wasn’t referring to her?

_Was he?_


	44. The Other Side

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After an amusing incident in Transfiguration Class, Hermione and Draco find themselves having a brutally honest conversation about their shared past.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Another chapter here today and I hope you like it....  
Thanks for all the support as always and enjoy!  
❤️❤️❤️❤️

A few days later, Malfoy was fully healed and back to his normal schedule of classes and brewing, which hadn’t surprised Hermione, but what had—was the fact that when she’d gone back to the infirmary to see him the next afternoon, which was a Sunday...Sally was sitting there with a couple of her friends, and they were all laughing and having a good time.

The young Gryffindor has brought Malfoy some sweets, which he took with a nod of thanks and when Sally left, she told Malfoy that she was glad that he was ‘_okay_’ and to try and not hurt himself too badly next time.

He’d just winked at her and said, “I won’t make empty promises, kiddo, but I’ll do my very best to be a bit more careful in the future.”

Sally’s smile had left Hermione feeling several things simultaneously.

She was thrilled that Sally had found a friend in Malfoy, but there was another smaller part of her too, that felt cheated and angry that Malfoy had _never_ been that kind to her when she was just Hermione Granger...Muggleborn.

Her mood hadn’t improved much after that encounter and she’d been unusually quiet, ignoring the worried looks of her cousins and friends, as they watched her with concern.

Even Malfoy knew something was up, but he wisely didn’t comment on it either.

Wednesday morning Adrian’s owl swooped in during breakfast to drop off a letter. She smiled softly as she took it and placed it into her book bag, deciding to read it later after classes were done for the day.

When she got to Runes, Theo was waiting for her as always.

Setting down her bookbag first, before reaching in and grabbing her assignment for the class period, she could see Theo staring at her.

“What?” She whispered and Theo shrugged.

“You seem off this week,” he admitted with a small sigh. “Did something happen I need to know about?”

Hermione shook her head in the negative. She didn’t need to share with Theo how ridiculous she was feeling because of some petty perceived slight that was in the past and couldn’t be undone.

“I’m fine.” She put her hand up to stop Theo’s comment. “Just contemplative this week about some stuff.”

“Good stuff?”

She shook her head again.

“Oh.” He nodded and grabbed his quill, as he pondered what to say.

“It’s fine, Theo. I’m just having a mental moment or three. I suppose with all the changes recently, it’s inevitable that certain things would hit me unawares. I’m still processing.”

“I can understand that.” He lifted his lips in a half-smile. “You can talk to me though. You know that, right?”

Hermione patted his arm in solidarity. “I know, Theo. I’m sure this is just a passing issue.”

He nodded again, but didn’t comment as Professor Babbling came into the room and got everyone’s attention.

Then the rest of the class provided the necessary distraction that Hermione needed.

Transfiguration followed, a class she had with Malfoy, Theo, Harry and Ron...not to mention several other Slytherins and Gryffindors. 

She sat with Harry and Ron, as they went over the bird conjuring charm.

“So we say the spell _oppungno_, right?” Ron mumbled and Hermione grinned and nodded.

“Yes. Just wave your wand like this,” She mimicked the wand movement with her hand and Ron nodded. “Then say the spell.”

Ron tried it several times, but only got a burst of feathers shooting out of his wand on his last attempt causing both Harry and Hermione to snort in amusement as their red-headed friend choked on the feathers.

Professor McGonagall just pursed her lips and shook her head as she moved around the room helping the other students.

Harry’s offering was only slightly better as he actually managed to conjure a single sickly bird, who made a pitiful sound and burst into feathers too...causing the entire room to guffaw in chortles.

Shaking her head, Hermione just smiled at her two best friends. “_Well done._”

“Shut it, Mione,” Ron groused out petulantly as he pulled a feather off his jumper. “You do it then, you’re so much smarter?”

“She is, Ron.” Harry grinned as Hermione glared at Ron, but to his credit...Ron just lifted an eyebrow and said, “Well?”

The room went quiet as Hermione sighed and waved her hand, conjuring a whole flock of yellow canaries causing Professor McGonagall to clap her hand proudly and announce, “Well done, Miss Prewett. Ten points to Gryffindor.”

“What a show off,” Hermione heard Pansy mutter under her breath to Therese Rowle, as the older witch sneered at her hatefully.

“Pumped up, mudblood.” Therese said scathingly and Hermione felt her blood boil as she glared at the two witches in earnest.

Her eye caught Theo and Malfoy’s, as they were also glowering at their housemates in ire.

“She’ll always be nothing but a _mudblood_.” Pansy said with a triumphant smirk and before Hermione could second guess her actions, she said darkly, “_oppugno_” and watched in amusement as the canaries swarmed and then flew straight for the two witches.

Their screams were rather enjoyable.

McGonagall’s expression was not as she waved her wand to vanish the birds and bit out with a tinge of disappointment, “Miss Prewett! That kind of behavior is unacceptable. Fifteen points from Gryffindor and you will be serving detention with me on Friday evening.”

Hermione pursed her lips and nodded at her Head of House, secretly not upset in the slightest as she noticed everyone in the class laughing at Rowle and Parkinson. Their faces were bleeding, as were their arms and hands where they’d tried to cover themselves from the attack.

“Mr. Nott,” McGonagall said primly, “please see Miss Rowle and Miss Parkinson to the infirmary and then return to class immediately.”

Theo nodded and smirked at his cousin, giving her a subtle eye wink before he led his two whimpering housemates out of the classroom.

“Nice one, Mione,” Ron grinned as Harry nodded his agreement too.

“Thank you, Ronald.”

“No problem. I’ve said it before, Mione. You’re brilliant and scary.”

The chuckles and nods throughout the room were rather funny.

“And she’s got a mean right hook too.” Malfoy quipped easily, causing Harry and Ron’s heads to move up and down most enthusiastically.

Hermione blushed deeply and turned back towards the front of the class, suddenly shy of being the center of attention.

Theo returned about ten minutes later and class was dismissed not long after that.

As they walked out of the classroom, Theo bumped his shoulder with her’s.

“That was oddly satisfying.”

“Theodore!”

“What?” He replied, clearly not sorry for his comment. “They’re two biddies that deserve each other. Despite being Slytherin, neither one of them are very intelligent nor particularly good at self-preservation, and whilst green is our House color, it doesn’t suit them well right now...does it?”

Hermione snorted and then covered her nose and mouth with her hand at the unladylike sound.

But Theo just laughed.

As did Harry, Ron and Malfoy.

“Are we done here?” She bit out eventually, trying to ignore the face that her face probably resembled a really red tomato right about now.

“Sure.”

The five of them got as far as the staircases when Harry spoke up. “Are you going to Slughorn’s Christmas Party, Malfoy?”

The Slytherin nodded.

“I was planning on it, why?.”

“Slughorn mentioned that the Minister might be there.”

Draco lifted an eyebrow in surprise, but didn’t comment.

Even Theo and Ron seemed surprised by the information.

The quintet eventually found themselves at the library, and Hermione was quick to excuse herself as she wanted to get started on her Arithmancy homework that was due next week.

When she found her usually spot that overlooked the Black Lake, she placed her bookbag down on the seat next to her and opened it—getting her books and materials out when she noticed Adrian’s letter.

Sighing, she fiddled with the parchment before she decided to open it.

_ **Hey little witch,** _

_ **I have been thinking about you this week and wondering how you’re doing. I haven’t heard from you in a couple weeks and I’ve been concerned.** _

_ **Is everything alright?** _

_ **The New Years Ball this year is being held at the the Rosier estate. I was hoping I might convince you to attend with me?** _

_ **I know that classes are going well for you, and you’re enjoying your study time as you always have. I’d imagine you’re probably sitting in your favorite spot in the Library reading this even now. Did I ever tell you I’d watch you on many an occasion sitting there chewing on one of your favorite sugar quills while you’d relentlessly tackled your studies? Your brow would be furrowed in concentration while you’d suck on that quill.** _

_ **I’d wished on more than once occasion that I could be that sugar quill.** _

_ **Silly, I know.** _

_ **But if you’re blushing right now, and it’s my fervent hope you are...I’ll take that as a win.** _

_ **I miss you and can’t wait to see you.** _

_ **Yours,  
Adrian** _

Hermione giggled softly and shook her head in exasperation even as the tell-tale blush colored her cheeks.

Then she sighed and placed the letter back into her bag.

The holidays were coming up soon, which meant more Pureblood events and soirées that she’d rather skip altogether.

But it simply wasn’t an option.

Reaching for a quill and some parchment to write Adrian back, she was pulled up short when Malfoy say down across from her with a smirk on his face.

“Busy?”

“I’m studying for Arithmancy, which is due next week but I need to respond to a letter I received this morning.”

Draco’s expression closed off slightly, as he hummed. “Adrian?”

“How?”

“I recognized his owl.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, oh.” He pulled out his Herbology book along with some parchment and a quill. “Is it alright if I sit here and do my homework?”

“No, that’s fine.” She demurred as she quickly wrote out a response to Adrian while her thoughts were fresh in her mind.

Malfoy to his credit, and in spite of his earlier declaration was giving her some space to write her missive without comment, which she did in record time.

Folding it up, she placed in back into her book bag so she could deliver it to the owlry before dinner.

“Did you know about the New Years Ball?” She inquired softly and Draco’s gaze lifted as his expression registered surprise, then resignation as he nodded.

“Yes. It’s at Rosier Manor this year.”

“That’s what Adrian said.”

“He invited you?”

“Yes.”

Malfoy hummed but didn’t comment as he tilted his head back down and started on his homework. Hermione followed suit and it was a while before she worked up the courage to say what was on her mind.

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

Malfoy replied, but didn’t look up from his parchment as he was in the middle of writing a paragraph.

“What you said that night?”

The writing stopped as Hermione noticed Malfoy levy a small sigh.

“Prewett...Hermione?” Hermione’s eyes widened slightly at the use of her given name. “Are we really going to have this conversation here, in the library?”

Waving her hand, Hermione immediately erected several privacy spells, causing Malfoy to sit back and narrow his gaze at her.

_Apparently they were going to have this conversation._

They stared each other down for what seemed to be forever, until Hermione shook her head in exasperation.

“You’re a _prat_.”

“So I’ve been told.” He drawled with a smirk. “I’m sure you can think of a few other choice euphemisms for my personality.”

“You know what I don’t get?”

“No, but I’m sure you’re going to tell me?”

Folding her arms over her chest, Hermione’s jaw clenched as she took in Malfoy’s smug expression.

Punching him again seemed like a really good idea, right about now.

“Sally.”

He blanched.

“What?”

“I don’t get how you can go from a bigoted, prejudiced, hateful git against all things Muggleborn—to _Sally_.”

Draco’s posture mirrored her’s as he stared at her curiously, noticing several things at once.

Hermione was angry, but underneath there was a level of curiosity...confusion and hurt.

It was the hurt that pulled Draco up short.

“Sally.”

“Yes.”

Draco nodded to himself as he pondered the question, and from where he was sitting he couldn’t say it wasn’t a legitimate one.

“Is this about Sally, or about how I treated you?”

Draco watched Hermione bite her lip as she considered how she wanted to answer that as he waited for her to respond.

“It’s _both_.” She admitted at last. “The Draco Malfoy I grew up with, _hated all things Muggle. _He was mean, dismissive and downright nasty most days. Then I see you with Sally, and it got me thinking. You were never as hateful to any other Muggleborn but _me_. _**You wished me dead at one point. **_So what was it about me you hated so much? Was it because I did better in our classes? Because I was friends with Harry? Or was it just me you hated?”

Draco stared at the witch across from him and groaned inwardly in shamed impotence.

“You want the truth?”

“That would be preferable.” Her voice was bracing, and Draco could see she was anticipating something hurtful which caused him to run a hand through his hair in agitation.

“Okay,” he began hesitantly. “The truth it is.”

Setting down his quill, he leant forward, his expression earnest and open which was a new experience for him.

“Before I came to Hogwarts my Father took me aside and all but demanded I try and make friends with Harry Potter. I had always been the leader of my group of friends, and before you insist that they’re not...we all grew up together and it was widely known even as children, that the Malfoy name was something to be revered. Proud of even.”

Hermione just listened, somewhat surprised that Malfoy was actually being open with her.

“You remember what happened that day and while I’ll admit, I handled it poorly...Potter based his immediate dislike of me solely on Weasley’s own prejudices against Slytherin’s. Needless to say, my Father wasn’t pleased with me. I had been given two directives before I started school. The first was to befriend Potter...”

“And the second?”

“That I wasn’t allowed to associate, speak to or befriend any Muggleborns.”

Hermione hissed out softly, as she noticed Draco’s sheepish expression.

“Okay.” Her voice was hard.

“Not really, but there it was.” He admitted with a shrug. “I mostly ignored you first year. It wasn’t until I went home during the summer that my Father found out I was second in class after you. He was angry and disappointed in me, and frankly...I was disappointed in myself. I’d always been the smartest, most magically gifted of my friends. And for all I’d been taught about honoring the traditions of my family, I had a hard time reconciling that a Muggleborn witch could be better at magic than I was.”

“So when you wished me dead?”

“Did I mean it?”

She nodded and Draco sighed heavily.

“I suppose I did—in the way in which an angry twelve year old wishes that the one thing keeping him from being the best could be removed. Again, I didn’t handle it well but my pride was hurt in more ways than one.”

“The broom incident.”

“Yes.”

“And then I punched you.”

Draco smirked and nodded. “Yes, you did. Trust me when I tell you that I had _never_ been more shocked in my entire life than I was that day. No one would have ever done such a thing to a Malfoy and there you were, in all your righteous fury...”

Hermione’s expression morphed into a grin. “You _deserved_ it.”

“I did.”

The shock on her face was to be expected by that admission.

“Then in fourth year...”

“Yes,” Malfoy cleared his throat awkwardly. “Krum and you. It was a surprise to most of us that year. Potter getting to compete in the Tri Wizard Tournament, you and Krum...rumors of the Dark Lord coming back...and instinctively knowing that my path was already carved out for me regardless of what I’d wanted.”

“You didn’t want to be a Death Eater?”

Draco seriously considered the question before he shook his head. “Maybe at one time I did.” He admitted, “but that was before the Dark Lord came back and I saw first hand how unhinged he was. Sometimes, we think something seems like a good idea...brilliant even, but when faced with the reality...”

“It’s not what we think it is.”

Draco’s lips quirked into a relieved smile, and Hermione could see that he was telling the truth.

“So you weren’t sad when you’d heard he was dead?”

“Nope.” He admitted easily. “My Aunt Bella was...”

“Insane.”

Draco chuckled sadly and nodded. “Yes, but my Mum loved her sister.”

Hermione’s face pinched but she knew that family was important to most people regardless of their questionable issues.

“You killed her, didn’t you?” Draco whispered and Hermione’s expression fell in shocked horror.

“What?”

“Don’t worry,” he said gently, “I’d guessed that for myself too.”

“What else did you guess?”

Draco was thoughtful as he pondered how to answer that question, which he did after a moment.

“I’d made the correct assumption you’d killed the Dark Lord. I figured it out that same night you and Potter returned from the Ministry. Slytherin House was informed about the death of the Dark Lord and it was surmised fairly quickly that you were a Sorceress. I owled my Father looking for confirmation, which he couldn’t give but the gist of his short reply let me know that my assumptions were likely the correct ones.”

“I see.” She murmured, her expression reflective as she stared at him.

“As for Sally, I suppose that day on the Hogwarts Express she reminded me so much of you our first year, and it made me realize that perhaps I should’ve done things differently. If I had, things might’ve never gotten so ghastly between us.”

“It’s just hard to not think that perhaps your prejudice of Muggleborns had more to do with your negative feelings about me than anything else, especially when I see how kind you are to Sally and I was never afforded that concession in five years. I can’t help but wonder if your sudden interest now has more to do with the fact of my new heritage, than me.”

Draco shook his head in chagrin, knowing that while he deserved this line of questioning and the doubt...it still didn’t make it any easier to bear, hear or accept.

“I’m not going to tell you that your feelings aren’t valid or that you don’t have good reason to ask these questions. I know what Adrian told you that night out on the balcony of his home.”

“So you were there, hiding under a disillusionment?”

Draco nodded, seeing the blush stealing over Hermione’s cheeks.

It was _fetching_.

“I had gone out there some time before to get some fresh air and when I heard the door open, I hid quickly. I listened mostly, as I couldn’t avoid that, but watching? Not so much.”

“Oh.”

“Oh.” He repeated with a shrug. “But back to what I said before. Adrian was right to an extent. While Potter and Weasley were rather easy to rile, and I have been known to be a jealous wizard from time to time...my dynamic with Potter stemmed more from the anger I felt at being dismissed and not even given a chance for friendship. Sure, I handled it poorly, and we were eleven, but as I’m sure you’re aware...it’s hard to forego...” he paused and Hermione said...

“Being hateful when that is all you’re getting in return.”

“Yeah. I think that’s why I’ve tried to make the changes this year within my own House. Slytherin’s as a rule, have been hated by everyone. Whether it’s deserved or not, I won’t debate the merits of that with you. You can’t know what it’s like being on the other side of the situation, Hermione. Sometimes being mean is a defensive mechanism to ward off possible rejection. I offered my hand to Potter that day and he rejected it for the simple reason that Weasley told him my family hailed from Slytherin and all witches and wizards from my house are inherently bad...evil. It’s easy to become what people perceive you to be, when the alternative isn’t an option.”

“You didn’t make it easy, Malfoy.”

“And you did, Princess? You _humiliated_ me, made assumptions not based in fact...punched me. Yes, I said hateful things, taunted you and inadvertently hexed you fourth year but neither one of us is exactly blameless here. You somehow still think that your truth is more valid than mine. That you’re inherently right and good, and I’m still the evil Slytherin not capable of being a decent person.”

Hermione’s expression fell at that assertion and she bit her lip as she pondered Malfoy’s words.

Was he right?

“Hurt me before I hurt you?”

Draco nodded. “Something like that. Again, I’ve apologized...twice...which is something I’ve never done before for _anyone_. Yes, I’m a proud wizard and yes...my previous actions weren’t well done of me, but that doesn’t change the sentiment of the things I’ve said to you. _All of them_. Whether or not you believe me, I’ve always noticed you and pulled your pigtails harder than most. And I won’t lie to you about the fact that whether or not I’d wished to know Hermione Granger better, being who I am, it wouldn’t have been an easy thing to do. Next to impossible really. I’m sure Adrian has said as much too?”

Hermione nodded. “He did. He admitted that he’d always liked me but circumstances as they were...he wouldn’t have been allowed to pursue anything.”

“_Exactly_.”

Hermione stared into endless stormy eyes that were watching her closely, and she felt her heart pounding faster at the intense look Malfoy was sending her way.

“Adrian wants to take me to the New Years Ball.” She blurted out and watched disheartened as Malfoy’s expression went from open to closed like a snap of her fingers.

“I see.” 

His gaze then moved back down to his paper, and Hermione swallowed as Malfoy picked up his quill effortlessly and turned a page in his Herbology book before he started writing again, signaling he was done with the conversation.

Hermione didn’t know whether to feel dismayed or relieved.


	45. Hard to Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione attends Slughorn’s Christmas Party.

Hermione had sent off her letter to Adrian, and had asked him to attend Slughorn’s Christmas Party with her.

After her rather surprising conversation with Malfoy, she figured it would be good to see Adrian before leaving for the Holidays.

As the weeks passed leading up to the event, Hermione noticed that while he was still friendly and engaging, Malfoy seemed rather subdued.

Even when they’d finished his Polyjuice and had brought Blaise along (he’d lost some bet that neither wizard would cop to) and morphed into Malfoy...thereby proving the end result a success...

...Hermione couldn’t help but feel that something was off.

Even her magic was feeling _unsettled_ again.

That Saturday, she’d chosen a beautiful gold dress that had a delicate lace overlay and was fitted to just above her knee. The neckline was demure but the back was not. The shoes she’d chosen were a pair of Muggle heels she’d gotten during the Christmas Holidays over fifth year. 

Red heel, gold straps and a jeweled buckle...

...they were flashy but fun.

She’d loved them immediately and this would be her first time wearing them.

Her hair she left down, and slightly pulled back to the side with a single gold comb, leaving the right side of her neck visible.

Her earrings were starbursts in simple gold and crystals. 

Nothing fancy, just something her Mum and Dad had given her fourth year at Christmas.

She still thought of the Granger’s from time to time, and missed them too. It was difficult to admit to herself even now, that they were gone from her life. She had grown to care deeply for her Grandmother, and was thrilled to have the Weasley’s and Theo as family...but it didn’t take the place of her parents.

With Christmas coming, and remembering back to this time last year, her eyes filled with reluctant tears at the thought of them not remembering her, nor their happy times together...especially during the Christmas rush. Her Mum was always waiting until the last minute to do everything! 

From finding a tree to decorating it!

While her Da would just snicker at how frazzled everything was, even if it did come together just fine come Christmas Eve.

Waving her hand over her face, Hermione took a calming breath and tried to keep her emotions at bay. Tonight wasn’t the night to dwell on the what if’s. Tonight was to determine what was to come. She needed to know if her feelings for Adrian were truly enough where her magic was concerned, or if what she was feeling for Malfoy was more than just a passing phase.

Harry was waiting for her in the common room with a huge grin, and together they made their way to Slughorn’s offices.

When they got there, it appeared as if they were the last to arrive. Malfoy was already there and he was talking to some witch Hermione didn’t immediately recognize. She looked to be about their age, and Hermione had to wonder if Malfoy had brought a date.

Shaking her head, she decided that wasn’t a question she was going to concern herself with right now.

Then she noticed Adrian talking with Professor Slughorn and a witch that looked an awful lot like Amelia Bones, the current Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. 

The final person speaking with them was the new Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeor.

There were several other people present that were rather notable and famous. Heathcote Barbary and Myron Wagtail from the Weird Sisters, Damocles Belby the inventor of Wolfsbane Potion and Tiberius McLaggen, Cormac’s Uncle and Head of the Department of Magical Transportation.

“It’s a who’s who.” Harry murmured into her ear, and Hermione sighed and nodded.

There were several other wizard’s and witches too that she didn’t know or recognize, but was fairly certain she’d get a chance to meet by the end of the night.

“I think I’ll go and say hello to Adrian.” She whispered and Harry nodded—leading her in that direction.

Once they’d properly entered the room, Hermione could feel the weighted stares of several of those present, focused on her.

Adrian however, just smiled warmly as he moved over immediately when he noticed her. His expression was heated and he thanked Harry for escorting her, before firmly placing her arm possessively within his.

From the expressions on the new Minister’s face and that of Amelia Bones, it was pretty clear that the primary reason for their attendance this evening was to meet her and Harry.

“Ah, Mr. Potter.” Minister Scrimgeour nodded to Harry politely, “I was hoping I’d get a chance to meet you formally this evening.”

Harry bowed in welcome. “Minister.”

“Harry, m’boy.” Slughorn clapped his meaty hand on Harry’s shoulder in greeting. “Good of you to come. As I’m sure you’re aware, this is our new esteemed Minster for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour and this lovely witch is Madame Amelia Bones. Current head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

Harry bowed to the witch too, and then nodded to Adrian, who was more than happy to make the proper introductions.

“Minister, Madame Bones...might I introduce you to Miss Hermione Prewett.”

Both of the older adults smiled in welcome.

“Miss Prewett,” Amelia said kindly, “My Niece, Susan—has so many wonderful things to say about you.”

Hermione smiled at the mention of her friend.

“Susan is a good friend.”

“She says the same thing about you. I’m sure these past few months have been quite a challenge for you.”

Hermione nodded. “It has been, but I’ve been more fortunate than most in that I’ve had my Grandmother returned to me and now Harry is officially part of my family. It’s been hard with the season drawing near, not to miss my parents...the Granger’s. They were always so supportive of my magic and proud of me.”

Amelia’s expression softened and her eyes filled with sympathy. “Dumbledore did tell me about their memories being taken when the glamour over your appearance fell. I am truly sorry for your loss.”

Hermione felt Adrian’s arm tighten around her waist as she swallowed uncomfortably, but did manage a tremulous smile.

“Thank you for those kind words, Madame Bones.”

“Nonsense my dear,” Amelia gripped Hermione’s hand within her own and gave it a firm squeeze. “Call me Amelia. And if you ever require anything, please don’t hesitate to call upon me. I don’t suppose you’ve spoken with your Grandmother about the vacant Prewett seat on the Wizengamot yet?”

Hermione’s eyes widened in shock and a brief glance at Adrian, and his single nod, let her know that this indeed was something that was correct even if she hadn’t been told about it yet.

“I can see by your expression of surprise, Muriel hasn’t mentioned it yet.” Madame Bones voice was tinged with apology, “You are of age now, and whilst you’re not done with school, you are the Heiress to House Prewett.”

“I didn’t know.” Was all Hermione could get out and Amelia just hummed thoughtfully.

“Well, hopefully Muriel won’t be too cross with me for bringing it up.”

Hermione’s smile was wan, as she noticed both Professor Slughorn and the Minister chuckling to themselves.

“She probably just wanted to wait until I’ve had a bit more time to adjust to all these changes.”

“As she should.” The Minister offered with a firm tone. “Gawain mentioned Mr. Potter’s plans to possibly join the Auror Corps after graduation, but that you weren’t thinking about joining the Ministry. Having a seat on the Wizengamot, your position within the Ministry is assured, Miss Prewett, and you wouldn’t need to take a position in any department if you don’t feel it a good fit but whatever you decide, the Ministry will be happy to support that.”

Brow furrowing, Hermione felt like she was missing something vital, but all she could do was nod and reply, “That’s kind of you, Minister.”

“Perhaps if you’ll excuse us, I might show Hermione around the room and introduce her to a few more people.” Adrian decided to change the subject, sensing Hermione’s unease. “I did see that Heathcote Barbary was here this evening.”

“Yes, yes...Mr. Pucey.” Slughorn’s reply was affable as he waved them on. “Do enjoy the rest of the evening.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Adrian bowed in parting and led Hermione...with Harry following...over to meet a few other people.

The rest of the evening was a blur of smiles, polite chit-chat and perfunctory introductions and Hermione was a bit surly that her evening with Adrian had been more about schmoozing than potential snogging.

She’d also lost sight of Malfoy after the first hour and had no idea where he’d gone to.

Not that she was consciously keeping track too closely.

Harry had found Gwenog Jones, and was picking her brain about Quidditch while Adrian finally led her out of Slughorn’s offices and down the sixth floor corridor.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Adrian inquired softly and Hermione sighed.

“I suppose it was interesting to meet so many notable witches and wizards.”

Adrian nodded as he led her into an empty classroom and transfigured a large desk into a love seat. Hermione’s eyebrows lifted in appreciation of the fine display of magic and then giggle when Adrian pulled her down to sit next to him.

“We are _unchaperoned_, Mr. Pucey.”

“Yes we are, Miss Prewett.” He admitted with a wolffish grin. “But I haven’t seen you in months and I was hoping that perhaps you might indulge me for a bit of snogging before I have to take my leave?”

Hermione blushed but didn’t stop Adrian as he leant his head down and kissed her.

Adrian deepened the kiss quickly and she felt her body relax into the kiss, and while she was enjoying it...it was clear that her magic wasn’t responding to the wizard snogging her the ways in which she’d hoped it would.

It had even changed from September, which was odd.

The kiss was nice and enjoyable...but it didn’t fill her with wanton passion nor fire.

After a moment more, she pulled back and sighed sadly.

When her gaze lifted, she saw slight disappointment flash through Adrian’s eyes, before he pulled her into his side and kissed her on the crown of her head sweetly.

Several minutes of silence went by until Adrian said hesitantly, “Is this goodbye?”

Hermione’s blue eyes shot up to Adrian’s deep brown ones with shock and then seeing the way in which he was bracing himself, she cupped his face within her hands, as she moved into a kneeling position on the loveseat so she could face him better.

“Is that what you want?”

“Merlin, no!” His reply was earnest and heartfelt, but Hermione could see the difficulty he was having with his emotions. “You know, I had desperately hoped that your magic would choose me. I had spent years watching you from afar, but probably in earnest after Krum took you to the Yule Ball. I listened to others within my House talk about you as if somehow, your perceived Blood Status was the only cognizant thing about you and it was difficult for me not to speak up and say my peace. When your heritage was revealed, selfishly I saw it as my chance to court you and I’d hoped that perhaps, I’d be enough. I can see now, that perhaps that was a foolish wish on my part.”

Hermione’s eyes filled with reluctant tears at the heartbroken expression on Adrian’s face.

“We don’t know that my magic won’t choose you.” She whispered achingly, but Adrian just shook his heat in defeat.

“Little witch, you are many things but delusional isn’t one of them.” He admonished playfully. “You’re smarter than anyone I’ve ever known and have the kindest heart...the most beautiful heart, of any witch I’ve ever met. I would give every galleon I have to be the wizard for you. I hope you know that.”

Hermione sniffled and watched as Adrian took a handkerchief from his robes and lovingly wiped her eyes, nose and cheeks with it...before handing it to her.

“I don’t want to end this.” She pleaded and Adrian could feel his resolve waver as he stared into perfect blue eyes that were begging him not to do this.

“My Hermione...I promised myself that I wouldn’t force this. Whatever this is between us. And I also made myself a vow that if I ever suspected that this wasn’t...” his voice broke on the last word as he cleared his throat several times to get himself a bit more under control... “If I wasn’t the perfect match for you, I’d walk away with no hard feelings. I needed to know if this, what we’ve had, was an option. I needed to see for myself and accept whatever the outcome, because I would always wonder...”

“If we were meant to be?”

Adrian nodded. “Yes.”

Wiping her eyes, Hermione felt her chin quivering as she sat back in sad resignation. “Now what?”

Adrain pulled her again into his side and kissed her on her temple in calm reassurance. “Now, we go our separate ways hopefully, the best of friends. I will always be here for you, little witch. Whomever ends up being your chosen wizard...I reserve first rights to hex the blighter if he ever hurts you and doesn’t give you every good thing you deserve.”

“You’re too good for me.” Hermione’s voice was emotional, and there was a part of her that wished that things between her and Adrian could be different.

But there was a larger part of her that sadly knew it just wasn’t meant to be.

“Just promise me one thing?”

“Anything.” Adrian replied easily.

Hermione paused, then said pleadingly, “Don’t sell yourself short, Adrian. Witches like Shardlow aren’t worth your time. I know I don’t have any right to be jealous...”

This earned a chuckle. “Trust me, Hermione, that’s one witch I would never seek to make a permanent fixture in my life. Wizard’s Oath.”

“Good.” Her reply was petty and Hermione knew it—but she couldn’t help it.

She very much _detested_ that witch.

Adrian stood and pulled her up with him, giving her one more sweet chaste kiss on the lips before leading them both from the safety of the empty classroom and back to the party.

When they got outside Slughorn’s office, Hermione shook her head.

“I’m going to head back to Gryffindor Tower. I don’t think I can face anyone else tonight.”

Adrian nodded. “I understand.” He enveloped her into a hug and kissed the crown of her head.

“Promise me, little witch, that you’ll be safe and happy.” Adrian whispered emotively into her ear and Hermione just nodded silently in response as tears threatened to fall again. Pulling away she cupped his cheek and placed a final kiss on his lips before she turned around and swiftly moved back towards the staircase...tears falling in earnest as she reached the Gryffindor common room.

Her heart was hurting and she didn’t want to see Adrian hurting either.

He really was a wonderful wizard and she cared for him immensely.

Life was truly unfair sometimes.


	46. No Privacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, Hermione learns the entire school knows that she and Adrian have called it quits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again, for the lovely comments and all the kudos! Truly motivates me to keep writing when I can!

Hermione had spent the entire night crying her eyes out, her curtains surrounding her bed drawn and a silencing charm placed so none of her dorm mates were kept awake by her loud sniffles and pitiful hiccoughs of distress.

She hadn’t realized until the very moment she’d walked away from Adrian, how much she’d come to care for the wizard. 

He was funny, thoughtful, sweet, intelligent and handsome.

_Why couldn’t he have been the one to make her magic sing?_

When the first vestiges of light flittered through her curtains, Hermione cancelled the charms hiding her and sighed heavily. The Hogwarts Express was leaving today for London and home, but Hermione really had no desire to spend hours sitting on a train with nosy teenagers who by now, probably had figured that she and Adrian had ended things when he’d returned to Slughorn’s party without her.

Nothing ever stayed a secret in this bloody school for very long.

Standing up, Hermione noticed that all her roommates were still fast asleep, meaning it was still fairly early. Waving her hand, her school truck packed itself as she grabbed a pair of jeans and a fitted jumper, with some clean knickers and a bra, before heading into the loo to get ready.

About thirty minutes later, dressed and feeling much calmer—Hermione went back into her room to shrink her trunk when she notice Lavender, Faye and Pavarti staring at her.

“Are you alright, Hermione?” Faye asked softly, and Hermione couldn’t help but notice that all three witches were watching her closely.

Rolling her eyes but nodding once she left the room without a word, and headed down into the Gryffindor common room where Harry was sitting with Ron, Dean and Seamus. Neville was standing over by the window talking to a fifth year and Hermione smiled awkwardly at her brother as she sat down next to him.

“Hey.”

Harry’s green eyes were filled with love and concern. “Hey.” He took her hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “I didn’t see you come back to the party with Adrian last night. He looked...”

Hermione nodded. “We broke up.”

The room quieted as everyone was now listening in on their conversation.

“Did something happen?”

Hermione shrugged and bit her lip before she answered shakily, “No and yes. Adrian is such a good wizard, Harry and I really liked him. I mean, I’d wondered if he was the one...”

“But he wasn’t, was he?”

Shaking her head, Hermione wiped a single tear that had fallen from the corner of her eye.

“I’m sorry, Sister Mine.”

“It’s okay.” She murmured before laying her head on Harry’s shoulder.

“So does that mean your _free_, Prewett?” An arrogant voice drawled and Harry turned his head and stared at the older wizard angrily, while Hermione stiffened.

“Piss off, McLaggen.” Ron’s voice interrupted and was irate, as the red-head stood up and blocked both Harry and Hermione partially from Cormac’s view, while the older wizard just scoffed.

“No need to be so unpleasant, Weasley.” Cormac sneered. “If Pucey is out of the running, that means that Prewett will be needing to find another wizard as a potential bonded.”

“And you think that’d be you?” Ron laughed. “Do you honestly think, McLaggen, that you’re powerful and smart enough to keep up with Mione, here? Did you get dropped on your head as a child?”

Harry grinned, while Hermione turned her head into Harry’s shoulder and snickered under her breath.

Cormac though, didn’t seem to get the message as he moved into Ron’s space and glowered angrily.

“Just because you got your position on the Quidditch team due to Potter’s favoritism, don’t think that you’re the better wizard, Weasley.”

“Sour grapes much, McClaggen?” Ron bit back and by now all the sixth and seventh years Gryffindor wizard’s were aligned next to their individual mates and drawing battle lines. Neville, Seamus and Dean were flanking Ron—while Ritchie Coote, Andrew Kirke and Jimmy Peakes were standing with McLaggen.

Hermione felt Harry stiffen next to her as she lifted her head and scoffed at how ridiculous they were all being.

“This is _mad_,” Her voice was hard as she glared at the seventh year Gryffindor wizard’s. “And I don’t have the time nor the patience for this.”

Standing up with Harry’s hand in her’s, she walked over to Ron and placed her other hand on her best friend’s shoulder. “Ron, he’s not worth it.”

Cormac bristled in embarrassment before his gaze narrowed as he sneered, “Maybe Pucey thought you weren’t worth it, Prewett?”

There were a few gasps of shock, but a couple people chuckled too—and Hermione just waved her hand and silenced the offensive wizard.

“You’re a prat, McLaggen, and possibly part Neanderthal too. Until you can speak like a decent human being and not like the pompous oaf you are? You’ll just have to stay silent.”

Cormac opened his mouth but no words came out. He then lifted his wand, but Harry was faster, pulling his own holly wand out and pointing it at the older boy’s chest.

Everyone went silent at the murderous expression on the Chosen One’s face.

“Listen well, McLaggen,” Harry growled out coldly, “you ever speak to or about my sister disrespectfully again, and you’ll find out exactly how unforgiving I can be.”

Cormac paled, as did the rest of his friends—who backed off quickly.

Hermione however, just shook her head and asked emotively, “Is it all over the school already?”

“About you and Pucey?”

She nodded and Harry shrugged.

“Probably.”

“This is utterly ludicrous!” Hermione bit back with hurt and ire. “I’m leaving and heading home now. Do you want to come with me?”

Harry just grinned, but shook his head in the negative. “Nah, I’ll hang with Ron. Tell Aunt Muriel I’ll see her soon.”

“Fine.” Hermione kissed Harry’s cheek and then gave Ron a hug before she left the common room and headed for the Astronomy Tower.

When she got there, she closed her eyes and called for Theo.

“Theo?”

After a minute she heard his answering call. “Hermione? Are you alright?”

She sighed. “Do you know too?”

“About Adrian?”

“Yes.”

Theo was quiet, but eventually he said, “The entirety of Slytherin knows. Apparently, he came back to the party last night upset, and made his excuses to leave. When he was walking to the apparition point, someone from our House saw him and said he looked fairly torn up. Speculation is rife that the two of you are no longer together.”

“I see.”

“Who ended it?” Theo’s voice in her head was hard, and Hermione knew she needed to reassure her cousin that Adrian had been nothing but wonderful.

“Adrian realized before I did, that he was likely not my bond-mate and he didn’t want to force the issue. I understood it, even though it broke my heart. I deeply care for him, Theo and I don’t want to see him hurt either.”

She heard Theo’s internal sigh and then he said, “Where are you?”

“Astronomy Tower,” she replied, “I’m heading home now. I can’t face all the stares on the train and after what just happened just now in the Gryffindor Common Room, I don’t want to.”

“What happened?”

So Hermione told Theo what Cormac had said and done, and she could feel her cousin’s rage on her behalf.

“What a bloody tosser.”

Hermione giggled but replied silently, “Language, cousin.”

“Yes, dear.” He bit back playfully, causing Hermione to smile.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For making me smile,” Hermione responded. “Come over to Fosgate Hall tomorrow for breakfast. Both you and your Father.”

“We will. Be safe, Hermione.”

“You too, Theo.”

Hermione broke the mental link and stared out over the Black Lake for a moment before she moved over the railing and walked out into the open air.

Setting her magic free, she felt the flames licking across her body and up to her hair...the feeling causing both a sense of calmness and agitation as she pulled her magic out and with a flash of heat and flame, she was transformed into her animagus form.

Flying over the grounds she picked up speed until her aura crackled one last time and then she was gone.

Back in Slytherin House, Draco was watching his dorm mate closely, when he saw Theo’s eyes close—and he knew immediately that Theo was likely talking to Hermione telepathically.

When Theo’s eyes finally opened a few moments later, they locked onto worried grey ones and Theo sighed.

“She okay?” Draco asked lowly and Theo shrugged.

“She’s gone. Left the grounds to return to Fosgate Hall.”

“Why?”

So Theo told his fellow Slytherins what had happened with McLaggen. Blaise, Goyle and Crabbe all listened in, and when Theo was done, Draco just scowled.

“That wizard is a plonker.”

“True that, mate.” Blaise replied.

“Is it true?” Goyle asked and Theo’s eyebrows lifted in confusion at first, until Greg elaborated, “That she and Adrian broke up?”

Theo’s expression cleared and he nodded, seeing the shocked looks on everyone’s faces.

“Why?” Blaise asked, intrigued.

“Short version is they both realized her magic wasn’t going to choose Adrian, and I don’t think either one of them wanted to force the issue. Hermione is pretty upset. She cares a great deal for Adrian and he for her.”

Blaise nodded, before he side-eyed his blonde friend...who’s own expression was contemplative.

“Rough go of it.”

“I’m sure she’ll be fine.” Theo said with more confidence than he actually felt.

He had no idea how much longer Hermione could keep taking these changes and disappointments in stride.

No one was that strong, after all.

“You going to see her soon?” Draco drawled lowly and Theo nodded.

“Tomorrow morning. She invited my Father and I over for breakfast. I should probably owl him to let him know.”

Theo nodded to his friends in departure, taking his book bag so he could send off a missive to Nott Manor.

When he was gone, Blaise turned to Draco with a smirk. “So?”

The blonde just ignored the knowing look on his best mate’s face. “So what?”

“Come on, mate...” Blaise cajoled, “we both know that you’re not exactly upset at this news.”

Draco just shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Blaise.”

“So you wouldn’t be too put out if I asked Hermione on a date?”

Draco, who had stood up at the beginning of their conversation and started to walk into the loo, whipped around with a heavy sneer as he glowered at his best friend.

But it was the growl of warning that had Blaise chuckling deeply, while Crabbe and Goyle just stared at him as they both flinched back.

“That’s what I thought.” Blaise bantered smugly as he stood up and grabbed his clothes for the day. “You might want to stop playing these games and do what needs to be done.”

“What are you talking about, mate?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Blaise just shook his head in exasperation at his best friend—who despite being one of the smartest people he knew...could be a bit thick sometimes.

“Draco,” he whispered lowly as he walked over to his best mate and eyed the talisman around his Draco’s neck. Lucius had sent it months ago, and Draco had taken to disillusioning it most days...but had forgotten this morning and he shouldn’t have been surprised that Blaise knew what it was.

_Fuck...that meant that Theo probably did too?_

“I know what that is and what it _means_. There is only one reason your Father would’ve sent that to you.”

Draco’s eyes widened as his gaze flickered to his other dorm mates, who thankfully seemed as confused and clueless as they appeared to be.

“Blaise...” his voice held a warning edge, but to Blaise’s credit, he just shook his head.

“I’m not an idiot, mate. Just think about how you’re going to feel if another Adrian Pucey tries to make a move on your witch.”

Draco stared down his friend for several minutes, until he finally nodded in defeat.

Blaise, wanker that he was—was right.

There was no way Draco was going to allow another wizard to usurp what was his.

_He’d waited long enough._


	47. Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione returns home while Draco has more than one confrontation on the Hogwarts Express.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a poster on ffnet claim this story was a bit slow moving and I wanted to remind everyone that this story is a slower burn and will be somewhere between 80-85 chapters in total length depending on how my outline goes. So thank you for reading and to all who’ve managed a kind word or twenty (Darkfairy8605, jlove34, Carols_Sister, 09Tiff86, Dog8myhomework, Whogirl84, buttons1721, jacpin2002, Adriana, BadWolf101, EloiseBalck, pclaunik, ditte3, my dear Domina, StassaA, Aphroditedany, Munlleca07, WhatTheElle, 14fan4ever, AmeliaVonTattenbaum, brvecc, roono, celtgirl, AprilJane, Etherhial, RemisGrl, ForksInTheRoad, ReapersMasquerade) and so many others who’ve taken the time to read and review most if not all chapters...you are all wonderful and keep me motivated!

“_Grandmother!”_

It was the third time Hermione had called out for her Grandmother, and she was starting to get worried.

“Sabbo!”

The tiny elf appeared, her eyes glistening as she stared up at her.

“Missy Hermione!”

“Hello, Sabbo. Can you tell me where my Grandmother is?”

“She just floo’d to the Burrow a bit ago.”

Hermione sagged in relief and then smiled kindly at the elf.

“Thank you, Sabbo.”

Running towards the floo, and calling out for the Burrow...the green flames immediately whooshed her away.

When she stepped out into the Burrow, her stomach grumbled with the heavenly smells coming from the kitchen.

“Grandmother?”

A squeak and then a plate dropping in the kitchen signaled that she’d been heard as a moment later, Molly came bustling into the room, followed closely by Arthur, Muriel, Fred and George.

“Bless Merlin!” Molly smiled widely, taking Hermione into her arms with a crushing hug. “How in the world did you get here? Aren’t you supposed to be on the Hogwarts Express?”

“Sorry?”

Hermione wasn’t sure what to say to that point. She had hoped to speak with her Grandmother privately and now realized that wasn’t going to be possible.

“Don’t be sorry, Dearest. Why don’t you join us for breakfast? Have you eaten?”

The perfect timing of her stomach rumbling a second time, outed the fact that she hadn’t indeed, not eaten and Molly didn’t waste a single second pulling her along into the kitchen for breakfast.

Once seated and served, Hermione noticed that everyone was waiting expectantly for her to clarify why she was here.

“I left school early, Grandmother.”

“Yes, I can see that,” Muriel’s voice was dry, but not angry. “What happened?”

Setting her utensils down, Hermione couldn’t help but wonder just how this news was going to go over.

“Professor Slughorn had his Christmas get together last night. The Minister was there, as was Amelia Bones,” Hermione paused and then stared petulantly at her Grandmother, “Why didn’t you tell me about the Wizengamot seat?”

Muriel just hummed, as she took a sip of her tea and then replied, “That’s a conversation for _another_ time and not the real reason you came home early. Is it?”

Pouting, Hermione shook her head. “No. Adrian and I ended things last night.”

If Hermione was expecting her Grandmother to be shocked by her admission, Muriel’s lack of reaction was somewhat surprising.

All she said was, “I see.”

“I’m so sorry, Dearie.” Molly’s reaction however, was more of what Hermione had expected.

Her eyes watered a bit and she sniffled once, but nodded. “Thank you, Molly.”

“Did something happen?” Fred asked, his voice a bit less amused than normal.

“Did he do _something_ wrong?” George piped in, his expression too, was more serious.

“Because if he hurt you...”

“We can take care of him easily.”

“And that’s a _promise_.” They both finished simultaneously, causing Hermione to shake her head even as she smiled through her tears.

“He didn’t do anything, you two,” Hermione admitted with a sigh. “He was so wonderful and understanding. He realized before I did that my magic likely wasn’t going to choose him in the end, and he didn’t want things to continue if that wasn’t going to be the case. I knew he was right, but I didn’t want to end things.”

Both Fred and George nodded together, their expressions mimicking the surprise they felt at Adrian’s chivalry.

“Unexpected...”

“For a _snake_.”

“You both be quiet.” Molly admonished as she took her niece’s hand, knowing how much she genuinely liked Adrian and how hard this would be for her. “How did you leave Hogwarts, Dearie?”

Hermione’s eye flickered to her Grandmother and Muriel nodded with a smirk, letting her know that it was alright if she decided to share with her family.

“Uhh...I can apparate through the wards at Hogwarts.”

Arthur’s eyes widened and both George and Fred whispered, “_wicked_” together.

“That’s quite impressive, Hermione.” Arthur responded finally, with a slight cough. “Only Dumbledore, to my knowledge, has that ability.”

“Well,” she began timidly, “it’s not me...exactly.”

“I don’t think I understand.” Arthur replied, bemused while the rest of the family sans Muriel, were all perplexed as well.

So Hermione explained what had happened on her birthday and how she’d transformed into her animagus, how Fawkes had been there but left out the parts about Malfoy.

Her Grandmother smirked at her omission, while everyone else was just stunned silent.

“Are you planning on attending me to Kings Cross?” Muriel asked and Hermione shrugged.

“If you need me to.”

“We can pick up Harry, when we get Ronald and Ginny.” Molly was quick to reassure them both. “That way you don’t have to see anyone, Hermione.”

The young witch smiled tremulously at the kind offer.

“Thank you, Molly.”

Muriel just nodded in agreement and once breakfast was done, escorted her granddaughter back to Fosgate Hall.

“Grandmother?”

“Yes, Dearest?”

“I did invite Theo and Lord Nott to brunch tomorrow, if that’s alright?”

Muriel lifted an eyebrow, but called out for her elf.

“Sabbo?”

The small elf popped into view with a bow. “Mistress?”

“We will be having guests come tomorrow for brunch. Can you let Corky know that her currant scones as well as her sweet pea and leek tartlets will be expected.”

Sabbo bowed in the affirmative. “I wills let’s Corky know, Mistress.”

“Thank you, Sabbo. That will be all for now.”

With another bow, the elf popped out of the room, leaving Hermione and her Grandmother alone.

Muriel gestured for Hermione to follow her into the solarium, which she did. Once they were seated, the interrogation began in earnest.

“Dearest, why did you leave the grounds of Hogwarts and not go by train with Harry?”

“Are you upset with me?”

“Not as such,” Muriel responded dryly. “I’m just concerned. Did something else happen?”

So Hermione told her Grandmother everything that had transpired from her conversation with Adrian to McLaggen’s idiocy.

“That _boy_,” Muriel shook her head in exasperation. “Siobhan has told me that Cormac has a rather peculiar sense of entitlement. You truly silenced him?”

Hermione nodded, blushing in embarrassment.

“He’s a foul, loathsome wizard.”

“If memory serves, didn’t you call the young Malfoy Heir something of that nature back during your third year.”

Muriel watched with a keen eye, Hermione’s cheeks darken further.

“I did.”

“Hmmm,” She murmured, “well, it would seem that I should expect a missive from Siobhan then?”

Hermione shrugged but didn’t deny it. “The spell can be lifted if he apologizes on his own, but something tells me that isn’t going to happen.”

“Probably not, however it would behoove me to at least forewarn Siobhan before she picks up her son in a few hours. I’m sure she will be far more understanding if I were to explain the circumstances of his punishment.”

“If you think that’s best, Grandmother.”

Muriel nodded and stood up, excusing herself to make the floo call while Hermione decided to head to her room to unpack her things.

When she got there, she enlarged her trunk and placed her assignments that were due over the holidays on her writing desk and then hung up her clothes. The ones that need to be laundered, Hermione placed in her basket inside her closet and as she was about to close the door, her eye caught on a shoe box sitting on the top shelf.

Sighing, she took the box down and moved over with it in her hands as she sat down on her bed and opened it.

Inside was her valued keepsakes from her time with her parents. The Grangers. Pictures of family vacations to France, Greece, Italy and a singular trip across the pond to Disneyworld when she was ten. Hermione smiled at one of the pictures of her mother, Helen and herself wearing Mickey Mouse ears as they sat down under an umbrella’d outdoor table, sipping on iced drinks and enjoying a momentary reprieve from the warm humid day. Hermione wiped a tear from her eye as she remembered fondly how sunburnt her Father had gotten from the lack of sunscreen.

As she fiddled with the pictures, Hermione had to wonder just how thoroughly the charm was that had hidden her.   
  
Had she been wiped from all traces within her parents home?

Pictures, home movies? 

Could Magic really erase all Muggle traces?

Sitting up straight, Hermione pondered if it was possible that there might still be a vestige of her former self left behind?

Did it matter, since her parent’s didn’t remember her?

She sighed heavily as she set aside some of the photographs and pulled out a diamond star necklace that her Mum had given to her on her sixteenth birthday. It was a simple piece of jewelry, but she’d loved it. Hermione’s eyes fell to her vanity and she moved over, opening the top drawer and pulling out the red jewelry box her Grandmother had given her over the summer. Opening it, the fire opal bracelet stared back at her.

Gripping it tightly, Hermione just shook her head.

She had watched the memories that Molly, Arthur, Remus and Andromeda had all gifted her of her biological parents. Fabian had been a serious wizard, but he’d had a wicked sense of humor too...much like George, who was the more rambunctious of the Twins.

But it had been seeing memories of her Mother, Marlene...that had been the hardest to get through. She was beautiful, intelligent, diabolically clever and brave. It was harder still, to reconcile the fact that Fabian and Marlene had been the one’s to give her life...when she didn’t know them at all except for a few sorted memories.

Placing everything back into her shoebox except for a single item...a small Christmas snowglobe that was also a music box...Hermione put the cherished item by her bedside and waved her hand—returning the shoe box to its rightful place inside her closet.

Shaking the globe, she couldn’t help but smile at how much she’d loved this silly thing. She’d seen it in a gift shop when she was six and had begged her Mum to buy it for her. Inside was a tiny sled, filled with gold and silver presents and a sparkling Christmas tree with a shiny star on the top of it. The music from the globe played a rendition of White Christmas...which Hermione had always loved and was her Mum’s favorite.

She used to sing it with her Mum every year on Christmas Eve.

Shaking her head out of the maudlin thoughts permeating like a dark cloud over her, Hermione decided that somehow...she needed to try and remember how blessed she was in her life. She had Harry, the Weasley’s and her Grandmother. Theo too. The Grangers were safe and happy, as far as she knew.

Perhaps a visit to Muggle London to check up on them might not be a terrible idea?

She just wasn’t sure what her Grandmother would think of that.

Looking at the time, Hermione found herself tired all of a sudden. Harry wouldn’t be home for another few hours and she really hadn’t slept well at all last night. Her heart was still sore from her break up with Adrian and she couldn’t help but wonder what his parents must be thinking of all of this.

_Would they blame her?_

She’d actually found herself liking Adrian’s mother quite a bit and had maintained a somewhat casual correspondence with her these past few months.

Would Anastasia Pucey shun her for the fact that she couldn’t give Adrian what he’d wanted from her?

Was it really her fault since it was her magic that needed it’s perfect match?

Flopping down on her bed, Hermione decided that perhaps a nap was in order. She needed to try and let go of all the emotional baggage for a little while.

Her final thought as she drifted off to sleep was wondering just what was happening on the Hogwarts Express right about now.

_If only she knew..._

Hundreds of miles away...Harry, Ron, Neville, Dean and Seamus were boarding the train and making their way to find an empty compartment. McClaggen had been taken to Madam Pomfrey by his classmates, when they couldn’t lift the silencing spell that Hermione had placed upon him. Unfortunately for Cormac, the Medi-Witch had been unable to reverse it and had called both Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore to the infirmary to try and undo the damage.

Both had been unsuccessful.

McGonagall has refused to believe that Miss Prewett would’ve placed such a spell without good reason, while Dumbledore had just tutted in feigned disapproval, even if his blue eyes were twinkling with mirth.

Cormac had been released with no voice and no understanding how to undo the enchantment.

By the time the entire school had gotten on the Hogwarts Express, everyone knew just how McClaggan had been hexed.

Theo’s expression when he’d seen the git on the train with his friends had been interesting. Malfoy, Zabini, Crabbe and Goyle had all watched as their friend noticed the older wizard and then made a beeline for him. When Theo was within reach, he told Cormac in front of the rest of his mates and some of the younger years that if he ever drew his wand on his cousin again...he’d make him pay for it.

The Gryffindor seventh years wizards had scoffed until Malfoy and Zabini had sauntered over and one quelling look and comment from the blonde wizard, had the rest of the Gryffindors paling.

“I’d listen to Theo if I were you, McLaggen. I’m sure you all understand Theo’s responsibility as Prewett’s cousin. We take those kind of things rather seriously in Slytherin House. I’d hate to see any of you fall to a Nott Family curse because you couldn’t keep your mouths shut and your hands to yourself.”

“What’s it to you, Malfoy?” Jimmy Peakes glowered, and Draco shrugged lazily.

“We Slytherins take care of our own, Peakes. A fact you might wish to remember.” Draco’s smirk was wicked as he concluded, “Or perhaps I could write a nice letter to Fred and George Weasley? I wonder what those two would have to say about their cousin’s less than stellar treatment earlier today? I can’t imagine those two pranksters would take too kindly to anyone who might seek to harm Hermione? _Do you?”_

All four Gryffindor seventh years paled at the mention of the twin jokesters.

Everyone knew not to mess with the Weasley twins.

“They’d never believe you.” Stated Ritchie Coote, his voice wavering with a tinge of uncertainty, but Draco just chuckled deeply.

“Bet on it?”

Grey eyes smoldered as he stared down each of the Gryffindors in turn while Theo and Blaise were just grinning in solidarity.

“I think we’re done here,” Draco murmured at last. “Stay away from Prewett. This is your only warning.”

The three Slytherin wizards walked away, ignoring the interested stares and whispers as they passed by several compartments before they came to an empty one. Once they’d entered, Theo immediately warded the area private.

“_Explain_.”

Draco sighed, but instead of speaking he just lifted an eyebrow at his friend, and waited.

It didn’t take but a minute before Theo was leaning towards him, forearms resting on his thighs as his blue eyes tried to pierce through Draco’s defenses.

“How long have you known?”

Blaise coughed uncomfortably, while Draco just stared at his fellow Slytherin.

Seeing no reason to lie, Draco just said, “I don’t know for sure.”

“But you suspect?”

Draco nodded, noticing immediately Theo’s mouth pursing in anger.

“How long?”

“Since the summer.”

“_Fuck_.” Both Blaise and Theo hissed simultaneously.

“She’s going to kill you, mate.” Blaise quipped while Draco just smirked.

“Why didn’t you say something?” Theo demanded and Draco just shook his head.

“Come on, mate?” Draco’s voice was incredulous. “How would that have gone, exactly? You saw how she was with Adrian? This is not my choice to make but Hermione’s, right? Her magic _has to choose me_ and she’s a Gryffindor. Stubborn, mulish and reckless. I’m Malfoy to her. The boy who tormented her, who’d wished her dead. That’s all I’ve ever allowed her to see...Malfoy. She’s never seen Draco because I wasn’t allowed to show Hermione Granger that side of my personality.” Theo went to speak but Draco just lifted his hand up to stay the retort...

“Theo, we all know what our reality was like. We all knew from second year on that the return of the Dark Lord wasn’t an ‘_if_’ so much as a ‘_when_.’ We’ve never been close you and I, but I’d like to think you knew what it was like for me these past five years. I can’t change it, but I’ve tried to make amends for it.”

“And Hermione?”

Draco looked out the window for a few moments before he replied, “I’ve always noticed her. _**Always**_. I may not have handled it well...”

“May not have?”

“Fine,” Draco groused, “I was a _prick_. But even so, it doesn’t change the fact that I’ve always...”

“Had a thing for her.” Blaise finished, to the hard stares of his two friends.

“That _too_.” Draco admitted finally.

Because it was true. 

For years he’d lived in denial of his own attraction and feelings towards Hermione.

She was infuriating and loud, far too bossy and brash...but she was also clever, cunning, intelligent and _beautiful_.

And deep down, in places he couldn’t fathom in his deepest held desires— _he’d wanted her even then._

“You’re really going to pursue her?” Theo’s voice was somewhat bemused and Blaise just snickered...ignoring Draco’s stern look.

“_Yes_.”

Theo whistled and shook head in wonder.

Then he said, “She’s going to turn you to ash if you fuck this up.”

Draco chuckled and nodded in agreement.

“Most likely.”

He had no doubt that Hermione Prewett would make him suffer if he screwed this up.

_The thought made him smile._


	48. Not Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Theo and his Father have an interesting conversation before they head to the New Years Ball.

New Years Eve had finally arrived and Theo was standing in front of his mirror, putting his cufflinks on as he gazed down and then back at his reflection.

The last week or so had been the best Yule he could ever remember having. 

He’d spent almost every day with Hermione and Harry and by extension...the Weasley’s too. 

Fred and George were hysterical, and fairly easy to tell apart once you knew what to look for. Ron was polite, but still seemed to be a bit unsure whether or not he considered Theo a part of his circle, and Ginny Weasley was more interested in Quidditch, wizards and who was coming to the New Years Party at the Rosier estate.

Theo had spent the better part of the past week wondering just how he was going to tell Hermione the truth of what he’d learned that day on the train ride home from Hogwarts—but there was another part of him that wasn’t sure he believed it either.

And the truth was he didn’t know how to bring it up to his cousin, or if he even should.

Draco had indicated his desire to pursue Hermione, and Theo knew he’d meant it. Whatever Draco’s faults were, and there were many—he wasn’t one to kid around when it came to courting.

Which meant his fellow Slytherin fully intended to have Hermione as the next Lady Malfoy.

Theo shook his head at that thought.

If Draco and Lucius were correct, and Draco was destined to be Hermione’s chose bond-mate and ancillary...not only would their children be formidable, but the combined wealth of the Malfoy, Prewett and McKinnon vaults?

Theo shivered just thinking about it.

_They’d be unstoppable._

Sighting softly, Theo didn’t hear the knock on his door until his Father was standing in the open archway, with his knuckle tapping on the pane.

“Theodore?”

The young wizard turned around and blushed as he nodded to his Father.

“Sir?”

“Are you alright?” Thoros asked as he came into the room. “I knocked several times.”

“Sorry, I was just caught up in my own thoughts.”

Thoros walked over to the hearth and picked up a photograph that his son had of their family when Theo was a small boy.

He felt a pang of loneliness sweep over him as he stared at the picture of his lovely Esme, who had died when Theo was five.

“About?” Thoros inquired as he set the picture back down on the mantle.

“Just wondering how Hermione is going to fair tonight is all.”

“Ah, because of her breaking things off with Mr. Pucey?”

Theo nodded.

“She misses him, and I know it’s been hard for her to admit it...but I really think she had hoped that things would’ve worked out with she and Adrian.”

Thoros just smirked at his son. 

He wasn’t a fool, and he’d wondered how long it would be before Theo figured out just whom Hermione’s likely bonded would be. 

It had taken Thoros about a month after his talk with Lucius over the summer to come to that conclusion.

It was the only thing that made sense.

It would’ve been the only reason that Dumbledore would’ve spared the Malfoy Family from losing its Patriarch to Azkaban before Draco turned seventeen.

The boy’s magic wouldn’t have been stable nor strong enough to bond as an ancillary prior to his seventeenth birthday, but with Lucius going to Azkaban, the Family magic would’ve had no choice but to revert to the Heir.

And the young Malfoy lad, would’ve been thrust into the unenviable position of being the Head of his House prior to turning of age.

The only wizard Thoros knew that had suffered such a burden was Dolohov, and Thoros had often wondered if that was the reason the man had been so unhinged and without feeling. He had understood even from an early age according to his own Father, that the Dark Lord was not capable of emotion as such—growing up as he did without a Mother or a Father and the Gaunts had been notoriously known in all manners of insanity. But Dolohov? He’d been a thoughtful wizard—smart even, well-spoken and friendly until his Father had died when he’d been fifteen. There were no other male heirs to the Dolohov name...no other wizard’s to share the burden of the family magic.

And Thoros had seen the slow descent into depravity over the course of time until the wizard had started lusting after a young witch not even of age.

Marlene McKinnon was a beautiful witch. Fiercely intelligent, brave and fiery. There had been many a wizard that had been interested in the witch, and rumor had it that Dolohov had noticed her at a soirée the summer before her fifth year, but had inquired of her status the following summer.

When Marlene’s Father has refused to even entertain the idea of a match between Dolohov and his daughter, the Russian wizard had been incensed. Thoros had heard rumors that he’d even gone so far as to confide his wishes to the Dark Lord once the war was won.

Then Marlene had started to date Sirius Black and while Walburga had been less than pleased, Orion had welcomed the match.

The McKinnon family was wealthy, and rumors had run rampant in Pureblood circles for years that the family Manor held all kinds of hidden magic.

There were even rumors of the line hailing from the greatest Sorceress of legend..._Lady Morgana herself._

But no one knew for certain, and it hadn’t stopped Dolohov in his relentless pursuit.

“Father?”

Thoros started slightly as he glanced at his son, who was watching him with concern and a hint of worry.

“What is it, Son?”

Theo wrought his hands together a bit, before he spoke up hesitantly. “Well, uhm...I’ve come into some information recently that I am trying to decide what to do with.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

Dark blue eyes locked onto those of his son, who seemed rather skittish.

Which was odd, for Theo to feel thusly...

“This information?” Thoros inquired calmly, “Whom does it pertain to?”

“Hermione.”

Sighing, Thoros sat down on the edge of his son’s bed, as his gaze pierced that of his only child. 

He could see Theo’s tension, and his uncertainty too.

“Is this in regards to her ending things with Adrian Pucey?”

“In a manner of speaking.”

“Theodore,” Thoros drawled indulgently, “please forego the subtext and speak plainly. We are on a time constraint after all.”

“Sorry, Father.”

Thoros waved his hand with a motioning as if to say, ‘_get on with it.’_

“I came into some information the day I returned home on the Hogwarts Express.”

“Which was?”

Theo bit his lips slightly, but decided to forge ahead anyway...hopeful that his Father could give him some much needed insight.

“I think I know whom Hermione’s future bonded will be.”

“Oh?” Thoros inwardly smirked, wondering if his son had discovered the probable truth.

“Yes,” Theo demurred, “Draco.”

Thoros didn’t reply immediately, as he had to wonder just how his son had discovered the likely truth. Thoros had independently come to this conclusion, but the fact his own son had discovered it, wasn’t surprising, just curious.

Theo stared at his Father for several minutes and then sighed again, heavier this time as he took a seat next to his Dad.

“You know, don’t you?”

Thoros nodded. “I suspected something of this vein, as the fact that Dumbledore spared Lucius from the debacle at the Ministry earlier this year could’ve only meant a few specific possibilities.”

“And you think this is the likely scenario?”

“Indeed,” Thoros hummed, “I do believe that Dumbledore was aware of the the particulars of the Prophecies surrounding both Mr. Potter and Hermione. He has held no love for Lucius over the years but especially not since the incident your second year.”

Theo’s face tightened, not wishing to be reminded of what happened to his cousin that year.

“So what do I do, Father?”

“You mean, should you tell your cousin of what you suspect to be true?”

“Of course.”

Thoros stood and walked back over to the hearth, staring at the old family photo for a few moments of contemplation.

Salazar only knew that he hadn’t been the best Father to his only son and Heir. He’d been distant, reclusive and often dismissive of his son’s needs, but now Theo had a chance at family. A family that loved and accepted him and had given his son a new lease on life. The Slytherin in Thoros demanded that his flesh and blood use this situation to his best advantage, but the Father in him knew that he couldn’t ruin his only child’s need for connection.

_Not again._

“I do believe that it might behoove you to discuss this with Mr. Potter first and get his take on this. If he deigns to keep the matter confidential from Hermione, you can always claim plausible deniability in the end and my supposition would be that your cousin would never hold it against a boy she loves as a sibling. However,” Thoros turned and faced his son, “if you feel it necessary to be the one to share this piece of information with Hermione, I would make certain you try and suss out her own feelings in regards to the Malfoy Heir. She may very well suspect as she is a clever witch after all.”

Thinking over his Father’s words, Theo realized that the advice was sound. Regardless of how he went about it, he needed to figure out a way to share this with Hermione and soon.

There was no telling how she’d take it if she found out some other way and then discovered he’d suspected all along.

She might never trust him again and that simply wasn’t an option.

“Thank you, Father.”

“Of course,” Thoros replied easily. “We should make haste. We are already tardy and it wouldn’t do to keep our hosts waiting any longer than is strictly proper.”

Theo grabbed his waistcoat and robes, following his Father to the floo room.

Somehow, he needed to figure out how in Merlin’s name he was going to drop that shocking tidbit on his cousin.

But perhaps his Father had a point. Maybe Hermione did know deep down who her ancillary truly was going to be, and in her Gryffindor stubbornness just refused to acknowledge it.

He really didn’t want to be the one to disabuse her of her reasonable denial and like before, he hated to be the bearer of bad news.

Tonight was going to be interesting. 

Hopefully he would be able to get through it relatively unscathed.


	49. Uh Oh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The New Years Party starts out with a bang.

The Rosier estate was in general terms, just as opulent as many of the other Pureblood homes that Hermione had visited over the summer. She’d been reluctant to come to this event tonight, as she was fairly certain that the news of her relationship with Adrian being no more, was more or less the hot topic of conversation amongst the Pureblood elite over the Christmas Holidays.

There had been a few other events this past week since she’d been home that she’d not attended. An afternoon tea gathering at Rowle Parkland Manor or the Yule Ball that had been held on Christmas Eve at Greengrass Garden Estate...

But her Grandmother had insisted that they would need to attend Evelyn Rosier’s New Years gala, as it was the main event of the Holiday season.

So Hermione had picked out the iced blue strapless chiffon ball gown her Grandmother had gifted her for Christmas...the silver snowflake overlay on the full skirt, shimmered like glittering crystals when she walked. The matching silver heels, were a nice touch as were the goblin silver inlaid aquamarine and diamond necklace and drop earrings—that were also a gift from Muriel.

As she and Harry followed her Grandmother through the floo, they were immediately ushered to the receiving line by the Rosier House Elves and Hermione felt her nerves spike uncomfortably.

Harry, who could feel his sister’s body tense—gave her arm a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s going to be okay, Sister Mine.”

“I hope so,” Hermione murmured lowly, “I just don’t want there to be any awkwardness tonight.”

“Have you heard from Adrian at all?”

Hermione shook her head in the negative. “No. I didn’t really expect I would though. At least, not right away? He did say he wanted to remain friends.”

“Well, you did stay friendly with Viktor after fourth year?”

Hermione nodded thoughtfully.

She and Viktor had maintained a friendly correspondence, it was true. He wrote to her every few weeks regardless of where he was playing. He’d share details about some of the sights and local Magical literature. Most people assumed Viktor was nothing more than a Quidditch player, but he was fairly well read and had a disarming intelligence that had left her surprised.

But he truly was more of a physical being.

“Viktor knew me as Hermione Granger though, not this newer version of me.”

Harry lifted an eyebrow at his sister’s melancholic expression and the tinge of wistfulness in her voice hadn’t been missed either.

“I think Viktor would’ve liked either version of you, Sister Mine.”

This caused Hermione to smile fondly as she nodded, then noticed that they were nearly at the head of the receiving line.

When they reached Evelyn Rosier and her husband Tarven—Muriel just nodded politely at the couple.

“Muriel, dear...” Evelyn smiled graciously. “It is lovely you could make it this evening. I was just telling Tarven earlier this evening that I was worried that you might’ve taken ill as we haven’t seen you at all this season.”

Muriel just hummed. “Yes, I was a bit under the weather but thankfully, I had my lovely Granddaughter and Nephew here to attend to me. Have you formally met Mr. Potter and my Granddaughter, Hermione?”

“No, I don’t believe I have.” Evelyn smiled, but the warmth didn’t quite reach her eyes as she settled her gaze on Harry, who just stood there politely and bowed. When the woman’s gaze flitted to Hermione, her smile became more genuine.

“Welcome to our home.”

Harry nodded while Hermione said, “We are pleased to be here. Your home is lovely.”

“Thank you, dear.” Evelyn turned her attention back to Muriel and smirked. “I heard from Siobhan that dear Cormac, has a horrid case of laryngitis that the Healers can’t seem to cure it. Strange.”

“Yes, I do believe I’ve heard the same thing.”

Hermione was always amazed at how simultaneously polite and indifferent her Grandmother sounded when discussing pretty much anything that she found distasteful.

Or amusing.

“Well...I do hope you all will enjoy the evening.” Evelyn replied at last and Muriel nodded.

“I’m sure we will, as you always do such a splendid job hosting these things.”

Evelyn just smiled indulgently while her husband hummed in what Hermione could only describe as boredom.

Thankfully, their son was a few years younger than her and it seemed that the Rosier Family didn’t feel the necessity of trying to throw their son in her direction.

Harry led her into the main ballroom, where the majority of the Pureblood society was already present and Hermione couldn’t help but sigh in resignation.

Would she ever get used to these ridiculous parties?

“No.”

“What?” Hermione’s gaze flew to her Grandmother’s, who’s own expression was amused. “Oh? Did I say that out loud?”

“Indeed you did, Dearest.”

Flinching in shame, Hermione blushed. “Sorry, Grandmother.”

“Hmmm,” Muriel shook her head subtly at her, and Hermione couldn’t help but feel suitably chastened. “I suppose now probably isn’t the best time to inform you that we will be required to host an event at Fosgate Hall come summer.” Chuckling at her Granddaughter’s horrified expression, Muriel just tutted knowingly, “it is only proper, after all. We will have to decide on what kind of event might work best.”

Hermione turned her attention to her brother, who was silently laughing next to her and she growled lowly before a wicked smirk appeared on her lips.

“Are there some events that Harry and I could co-host _together_, Grandmother?”

Harry’s sharp intake of breath and dismayed expression almost caused Hermione to laugh out loud, but Muriel just nodded once.

“There are, and I am so gratified that you both can do this together,” Muriel eyed her adopted nephew with a predatory gleam in her eye, “as Harry here will be turning seventeen during the height of the summer season, it would only be seemly that we do something to honor that occasion.”

“_But_...” Harry whimpered, and then flinched when he felt Hermione’s talons gripping his arm tightly.

Aunt Muriel’s expression also disabused him of the notion he’d have any say in the matter.

“You both are evil.”

“But you love me anyway.” Hermione’s voice was playful and Harry just groaned but didn’t refute the statement.

“There you both are.”

Hermione looked over her shoulder and smiled at Theo, who was walking towards them.

“Hey, Theo.” Harry said and held out his hand for the other wizard to shake.

“I almost thought you both were going to skip out on this event too.”

Muriel just hummed, but didn’t say anything as she patted Theo’s arm and headed into the room to mingle.

“Grandmother insisted.”

“I see,” Theo grinned knowingly before his expression sobered. “I just wanted to forewarn you, cousin, that Adrian is here and he brought someone.”

Hermione’s face fell and her eyes widened in shock. “Who?” She asked shakily. “Please don’t tell me it’s Shardlow?”

Theo shook his head in the negative. “No, it’s an old family friend that went to Beauxbatons. Her name is Claudette Harcourt.”

“I see.” Was all Hermione said, but inside she was confused and hurt. 

They’d just broken up a bit over two weeks ago, and he was already seeing someone else?

“Theo?”

“Yes, Hermione?”

“By bringing her here? Are they courting officially, or would it be assumed that they are?”

Theo bit his lip but did that shrugging thing of his.

“Not exactly.”

At his cousin’s look of confusion, Theo elaborated.

“Her Family is visiting the Pucey’s. Armand and Claudette’s father, Pierre work in the same positions within both Ministry’s. Since Adrian is now eligible, it would’ve been expected of him to take Claudette as his date.”

“I see.” Hermione bit her lip hard, trying to keep herself from reacting negatively to this bit of news. “I would appreciate knowing what the gossip is in regards to who ended our courtship.”

Theo’s eyes fell, and he heard Hermione’s sharp intake of breath.

“Are you kidding me?” She whispered angrily. “It was a _mutual_ decision.”

“I think everyone knows that, Hermione,” Theo placated easily, “everyone knows that your magic will only choose its best match. The fact that you and Adrian ended things let’s everyone know that he was not that wizard. However, the fact that you both were together, however brief a time speaks to his eligibility. The fact that your magic did _consider_ him?”

Hermione stood there stunned. 

Why in the fuck had no one thought she needed to know about this?

“Is this some antiquated Pureblood crap that I should just be expected to know?”

“No,” Theo murmured lowly, “it’s more of a Slytherin thing?” Shaking his head Theo just rubbed his hand behind his neck. “It’s a status thing within Slytherin House. I know Adrian discussed the Pureblood hierarchy a bit, yes?”

Hermione nodded, because Adrian had tried to explain it to her early on in their relationship.

“Hermione,” Harry interrupted with a concerned frown, “I know what you’re thinking and I know for a fact that Adrian had desperately wanted this to work with you. I think you know it too. You can’t fault the wizard because of how these ridiculous Pureblood rules work. If his social standing see’s a boost because of your relationship with him, what harm is there? Your magic didn’t choose him and I’m sure he’s fairly unhappy with that fact. But we both know from Theo too...what kind of masks those in Slytherin are expected to wear and I’m sure Adrian is no different.”

Hermione pondered over Harry’s words for a couple minutes before sighing in resignation.

“Fine, but we aren’t staying here any longer than strictly necessary, Theodore. Once the appropriate amount of time has passed, I’m relying on you to come and rescue me and get me out of here.”

“Done.” Theo grinned with a wink.

It didn’t take long however, probably only thirty minutes or so until Hermione saw Adrian with his parents and a beautiful witch that had long black hair and bright blue eyes. She was tall, thin, elegant and everything that Hermione wasn’t.

When her gaze locked with Adrian, she could see his initial surprise and then what she could only describe as a brief flash of sadness in his eyes before he nodded politely to both she and Harry. Her brother returned the gesture but Hermione couldn’t help feel like someone had punched her in the gut.

So she looked away and didn’t acknowledge him at all.

Harry sensing Hermione’s discomfort, led her to another part of the ballroom that had to be twice the size of the Great Hall at Hogwarts—where the refreshments were located.

“Do you want something to drink?”

She nodded so Harry went off to get her something while Theo stayed by her side.

“Theo,” she began stoically, “you don’t have to babysit me, you know?”

“I’m not,” he admitted with another one of his patented shrugs, “I’m not much for socializing at these events.”

Hermione turned and fully faced her cousin with a questioning look. “Why didn’t you invite Luna?”

Her cousin’s reaction was exactly what Hermione expected.

Theo looked utterly speechless.

Then embarrassed.

“What?” He sputtered and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Theodore Nott! Please don’t tell me you’re not interested in Luna?”

Blue eyes glittered warily at her, but to his credit...Theo didn’t deny it.

“I like Luna,” he said softly, “but I’m just not sure what my Father is going to think about it.”

“Why?” Hermione asked, genuinely confused. “She’s a Pureblood, right?” Then her expression darkened as she asked harshly, “Is this because she’s not Sacred 28?”

Theo’s put upon sigh, told Hermione that was exactly the issue and she folded her arms angrily over her chest as she glowered at her cousin, who was trying very hard not to flinch away from her anger.

“It’s not that I care, Hermione,” Theo pleaded, “but my Father does have some say in whom I court officially.” Hermione went to speak, but Theo put up a hand to stop the rant he knew was coming. “Besides, Luna isn’t even close to being of age yet and I would prefer to take things slow. I’m just enjoying getting to know her informally.”

“If the Lovegood’s had more wealth and standing, would it really matter that she isn’t Sacred 28?”

Damn that shrug!

“Probably would to my Father—but I couldn’t care less.”

Hermione’s face fell at the sad expression on her cousins face and their conversation stalled, as Harry came back with some sparkling juice.

“Thanks, Harry.”

Her brother nodded and then he and Theo started talking Quidditch, which left Hermione feeling a bit left out so she excused herself and decided to go and powder her nose.

As she made her way to the loo—her gaze caught sight of a head of platinum blonde hair and as she walked by—she noticed Malfoy standing with Zabini and several witches she didn’t recognize.

Her expression tightened when she saw one of the witches place a flirtatious hand on Malfoy’s arm and the words he’d said about courting her came rushing back with a vengeance.

Why did all wizards have to be so complicated?

Shaking her head, she turned to leave the ballroom...missing the set of grey eyes following her out as well as the worried expression on Draco’s face.

Luckily Hermione found the ladies lounge rather easily and just spent a few moments staring in the mirror, trying to get a semblance of her emotions under better control.

She was really regretting coming tonight after all, and just as she was about to walk out of the loo, the door opened and in walked Therese Rowle and Pansy Parkinson.

Deciding to ignore them, Hermione went to leave when Pansy’s caustic voice broke her reverie.

“You really are a piece of work, Prewett!”

Hermione just shook her head, but Therese Rowle’s next words stopped her cold.

“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Prewett, but no one is impressed with your _faux_ distress over your break-up.”

Turning around, Hermione glared at the two witches. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Rowle...but if you have a point to make? Get on with it before I hex you bald.”

The older witch paled as her hand flew protectively to her hair while Pansy just scoffed.

“She’s talking about the fact that no one buys that you don’t know who your future bonded most likely is going to be! It seems the wizard in question already suspects it and it didn’t take Therese and I long to figure it out either.” Pansy just glared at her spitefully. “So for the Brightest Witch of the Age...you surely can’t be that obtuse not to suspect whom the wizard might be?”

Hermione just stared at the two witches before she burst out in laughter.

“I’m _sorry_,” she gasped in humor, “you both have somehow come up with some conspiracy theory on who my future ancillary is going to be?”

Based on the two Slytherin witch’s evil sneers, Hermione supposed they probably did have an opinion.

“Then tell me, oh Seers! Who is my future one?” Hermione mimicked in her best Trelawny impression.

The look the two exchanged, had Hermione’s hackles rising in defense and then Rowle smirked in triumph.

“Tell me, Prewett? Do you know what a _talisman_ is? Or what they are used for?”

Hermione paused momentarily, but then nodded once.

“They’re different based on the intent of the giver and the receiver. Some are imbued with luck, some protection...but they all enhance the magic of the possessor.”

“Very good, Prewett.” Therese replied scathingly. “A text book definition but not quite accurate.” The witch then smiled in a very predatory way as she moved closer, her voice low and throaty. “A talisman can only be given by the Head of House to a direct Heir. It is for _protection_...House protection and can stave off some hexes and curses that would intend harm to an Heir. Back in olden times, a talisman would be given to an Heir if the Head of House felt his son’s life was in peril. So explain to me why Lucius Malfoy would feel the need to give his only son, and Heir—such a gift? Malfoy’s are notoriously magically powerful...so why would Draco Malfoy need to be protected?”

Hermione’s eyes widened at this new information, but she didn’t immediately connect the dots until Pansy laughed.

“Draco ended our dalliance within weeks of your heritage being revealed. I know for a fact that Lucius Malfoy was at the Ministry the night of the Dark Lords demise. My Father may not have been a branded follower, but I _hear_ things. Dumbledore spared the Malfoy Family. Now why do you think Albus Dumbledore...leader of all things light and good would spare a wizard like Lucius Malfoy from going to Azkaban?”

Hermione folded her arms protectively against her chest as she returned Pansy’s glare...but her heart was beating a mile a minute as the questions she’d had for months were now starting to fall into place.

“I don’t know, Parkinson? Why don’t you tell me why you think Dumbledore might’ve done such a thing?”

Both Slytherin girls just sneered at her in tandem and Rowle then said, “You do understand about House Magic? Right?”

Hermione didn’t immediately answer, so Rowle went on and explained how exactly House magic worked in the cases of a Lord and an Heir—and what would’ve happened to Malfoy if his Father had been sent to Azkaban.

The more she heard, the more Hermione realized that the truth was staring her smack dab in the face and as she quickly went over every interaction she’d had with Malfoy over the last five months...Hermione realized belatedly...the truth of her situation.

Her bonded...her ancillary—in all likelihood was going to be Malfoy.

As she considered the two witches in front of her, Hermione just stared at them impassively. 

She could see that they were just waiting for her to lose her temper...but she would not give them the satisfaction.

All she said was, “Are we _done_ here?”

Whatever the two Slytherin’s were expecting her to say—that was not it. As she turned again to walk out, she could sense Rowle reaching for her wand and she said coldly, “If you draw that wand on me, Rowle...be _prepared_. Unless you’re willing to try and cast an unforgivable, nothing short of that is going to work on me and you’ll find yourself at my mercy.”

Hermione glanced over her shoulder, and saw the witch gripping her wand tightly before she lowered it.

“_Smart choice,_” Hermione said scathingly. “I am just curious, Rowle? Was there _really_ a wizard at Drumstrang that you were going to be betrothed to, or were you hoping to snag Malfoy for yourself?”

The blonde witch’s pinched expression let Hermione know the truth of exactly, what she’d intended to do.

Moving around and facing the other witch fully, Hermione warned, “_Stay away from him. _Both of you. I don’t know what game you’re both playing at but this is my life you’re trying to fuck with. If I think for one moment either one of you are a threat to me or mine...I will have no problem dealing with you accordingly.”

“Tough words.” Therese sneered hatefully but Hermione just chuckled before she held out her hand and allowed the flames to erupt from her core...watching in amusement as both witches eyes widened.

As the flames engulfed her entire body, Hermione moved closer to the two Slytherin’s, watching them retreat in fear.

“You’ll find I can back up those words.” She said, as her magic pulled in and the flames disappeared as quickly as they’d come...leaving her as pristine as before.

With a final look of disgust, Hermione left the lounge and headed back to the party.

_She had a wizard to find._


	50. Getting a Vote

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione deals with her immediate past and as such grapples with her present and future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 😁😁 And now for dramione!

Walking swiftly back towards the ballroom, Hermione’s emotions were all over the place. 

While a part of her wanted to believe that Rowle and Parkinson were just two jealous witches that were full of shite, she knew on a deeper level that what they’d shared with her was spot on.

And it made her wonder just how many of those in her life suspected the truth.

Obviously there was Lucius Malfoy and Dumbledore.

Which meant Snape probably did as well, as nothing got by that wizard.

Her Grandmother.

_Fuck!_

Her Grandmother had tried to forewarn her of this very thing not too long ago. She had told her that when this moment came, and she realized just who her likely bonded was—to not act rashly.

As her footsteps echoed off the tiled floor, Hermione slowed her pace considerably as she pondered just how she was going to deal with this new information.

Malfoy knew, or at least suspected. And if Pansy was correct...he’d suspected for a while.

He’d watched her date Pucey, and had not said a thing. 

He’d snogged Rowle...

Hermione pulled up short, her eyes narrowing at that little factoid.

_He’d snogged that bitch, when he’d suspected that he was her likely ancillary?_

Biting her lip, Hermione felt her hackles rising as she remembered clearly what she’d felt that night on patrol.

She’d been upset, a bit tense, jealous? 

Angry?

Stopping completely and leaning up against the nearest wall, Hermione tried to catch her breath as she didn’t know what to think about any of this!

How in the world was she supposed to confront Malfoy?

Hey ferret? 

Guess what?

It would seem we’re to be bonded?

Right!

That wasn’t going to go over well at all.

_Right?_

Running her hands over the smooth, cold, stone wall—Hermione tried her very best to keep a lid on her emotions—which were beyond scattered.

How did she feel about the idea of Malfoy being her future one?

As she pondered it, she found herself going over all their interactions again over the last few months. How Malfoy had behaved in regards to everything that had transpired and truth be told, Hermione couldn’t fault him for his actions in the least.

There was no way Malfoy could’ve known for certain about their likely connection—it was probably an educated guess at best. The facts did seem to support that line of thinking but if Hermione knew anything, it was that the only person who probably knew for certain was Dumbledore and the idea of confronting her Headmaster wouldn’t be her first choice.

So dealing with facts as they stood at this very moment, Hermione had to admit she wasn’t at all that surprised nor truly upset about the possibility. She’d enjoyed getting to know Draco this year and had seen him trying to be a better wizard. He had changed quite a bit from the hateful prat he’d been and even though she was still a bit wary of him, it didn’t change the fact that he was an attractive, intelligent wizard who’d always managed to get under her skin.

Sighing deeply, the thought came back to her that the only way to deal with this was to confront it head on...but the other part of her brain was screaming at her to run home and not deal with this tonight.

_Or ever._

Would there ever be a good time to confront this particular situation?

Leaning her forehead against the cool wall, and trailing her hands over the crags in the creases of the stonework, Hermione didn’t immediately hear anyone coming towards her until a voice spoke up.

“Hermione?”

Turning her head to the side, her eyes widened when she saw Adrian standing there—looking at her with concern shining from his brown eyes.

Turning around fully, and running her hands down her skirt, Hermione bit her lip as she stared at the handsome wizard in front of her.

“Hello, Adrian.”

“Hey, little witch.” He murmured softly, as he took another step closer to her. “Are you alright?”

Breathing in deeply through her nose, Hermione turned her head down and away—not sure if she could cope with this too, right now.

“Hermione,” Adrian’s voice was soothing, “Talk to me. I know something’s wrong.” He paused and then said, “Are you upset that I brought someone tonight?”

Hermione’s head flew up and her lips pursed for a split second, but then she just sagged against the wall in defeat.

“Was I supposed to be alright with it?”

Adrian’s expression was pained, but to his credit his voice was calm as he replied, “It was my Father’s idea.”

“Theo mentioned that was probably the case.”

He nodded, relieved—but then his brow furrowed when he noticed that she was still upset.

“Did something else happen?”

“If I told you it did?” She began hesitantly. “If I told you I finally figured it out?”

Adrian seemed confused until he registered what exactly she’d meant by that statement and his face paled significantly.

“Your bond-mate?”

Hermione nodded, a short laugh forcing its way through her lips. “_Yes_.”

The older wizard nodded to himself, but Hermione could see the tension in his face, jaw and body as he paced a bit before he asked emotively, “**Who?”**

Closing her eyes, as she didn’t want to see Adrian’s reaction and knowing she was a coward for doing so—she just whispered, “Malfoy.”

Silence.

Then heavy breathing.

When Hermione opened her eyes, she could see the myriad of emotions in Adrian’s eyes.

There was disappointment, anger, hurt, confusion and reluctant understanding.

“How?”

“The short version? Apparently Rowle and Parkinson felt the need to confront me in the ladies loo. Malfoy is wearing a talisman that Lucius gave him. My guess? Rowle noticed it at some point while they were snogging each other. It’s why Dumbledore spared Lucius Malfoy at the Ministry. He was there the night Voldemort fell. My Grandmother guessed too, I’m fairly certain of it. She warned me not to overreact when I figured it out.”

“Shite.” Adrian said darkly as he ran a hand through his hair. “What do you want to do?”

“Run? Cry? _Scream until I’m blue in the face?_ Smack the ferret for keeping this to himself?” 

Shaking her head, Hermione just choked out a sob and felt Adrian’s arms encircling her.

And she clung to him desperately.

“The truth is I’ve been in denial for a while,” She admitted on a sniffle. “Something deep inside me _knew_ it...but I didn’t...wasn’t ready to deal with the truth.” Her blue eyes met concerned brown ones and she cupped Adrian’s cheek softly. “Does it make me a bad person that I refused to see it?”

Adrian thought about it for a moment, then replied, “No, little witch. It makes you human, I suppose. Perhaps you’re not quite as perfect as I thought you were.”

Laughter bubbled out of Hermione as she smiled adoringly at Adrian and his answering smile warmed her heart.

“You are such a good wizard, Adrian Pucey. I’ll admit, I wasn’t happy seeing that witch Claudette on your arm, but she is beautiful. Do you like her?”

The wizard shrugged. “Well enough I suppose. She’s not you, but then no one is. However Claudette is fun, sweet and has an adventurous spirit.”

“Then perhaps you might see where it goes?” Chuckling softly to herself, Hermione asked, “Would I like her?”

“I think so, why?”

“Because I’d probably want to turn the witch to ash if I didn’t.”

Adrian’s expression was stunned for a split second, before his face broke out into an ear splitting grin.

“Minx.”

“Maybe,” she admitted with a wink, “but tell me what to do about Malfoy?”

“Do you want to talk to him tonight?”

“Yes and no.”

“Understood,” Adrian replied with a snicker, “but how about this? You head outside to the gardens. There is a large hedged area that you can’t miss when you leave the balcony and head down the steps to the right. Walk inside about fifty feet and turn left. After another fifty feet, you’ll come to an open garden and there will be a bench on the right under a large willow tree near the pond. Go there, and I’ll send Draco to you.”

Hermione nodded and leant up to kiss Adrian’s cheek in thanks.

“You’re a good man, Adrian Pucey.”

“Draco’s a lucky wizard.”

Hermione sighed, as she watched her former boyfriend turn back towards the ballroom—so she took the opportunity to disillusion herself before heading the way Adrian had told her to go.

It didn’t take long to find the spot, and once she was there...she waited anxiously for Malfoy to show.

About ten minutes later, the object of her thoughts came sauntering around the corner...his eyes widening when he noticed her sitting there.

“Malfoy.”

“Prewett.”

“Sit down please. I think we need to have a talk.”

Hermione saw Malfoy swallow slightly, but he nodded as he glided over like a panther and sat down next to her. His grey eyes calculating her every mannerism as they considered each other for a few moments in silence.

Then she blurted out, “How long have you known?”

To Malfoy’s credit, he didn’t blanch or act surprised in any way—he just tilted his head at her and said evenly, “Since the summer.”

Hermione nodded. “Your Father gave you a talisman?”

Now his eyes did widen slightly, but he nodded and pulled out a chain from around his neck and whispered a spell which made the talisman visible to her.

Hermione eyed the jeweled stone, her eyes taking it in and she bit her lip—her eyes lifting to grey ones that were watching her intently.

“If I may?” He asked and she nodded after a moment. “How did you figure it out?”

Shaking her head, she replied scathingly, “Parkinson and Rowle confronted me in the ladies. Told me about that,” she lifted her chin at the jewel, “and then accused me of playing games with Adrian’s affections too. They were rather...” her voice fell away, but she could see Malfoy’s sneer of disgust.

“I’m sorry.” He replied sincerely. “I had hoped to find a better way to tell you. Theo figured it out right before we left school and he insisted I come clean or he would. Please don’t be upset with him. I think he was going to discuss it with Potter first, but Theo worries about you. He hates seeing you upset.”

Hermione sighed and nodded. “I know, and I’m not upset. Not exactly.” She clarified at Malfoy’s disbelieving look. “I’m just unsure how to do this.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everyone is assuming something that may or may not be true,” she said emphatically. “The facts may indicate it’s likely, but I’m not 100% convinced of it.”

“Oh?” Draco drawled. “And why is that? Is it due to our past?”

“No, and don’t go there Malfoy.” Hermione warned. “We’ve managed to find common ground recently and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that I find there is much about you that intrigues me.”

His smug smirk was to be expected.

“However,” she went on, “I thought Adrian might’ve been the one and clearly he wasn’t.”

“How did you figure it out?”

“My magic,” she sighed, “when he kissed me this past summer it seemed happy and pleased? But before the hols at Slughorn’s party when he kissed me again...” her voice fell away and she saw Malfoy nod thoughtfully.

“Your Magic didn’t feel the same?”

“No it didn’t.”

“And when you’re with me?”

“I don’t know,” she blushed a bit as she stared into grey eyes that were bright and curious.

“Then perhaps you might indulge me with a slight experiment.”

“What kind of experiment are we talking about?”

That infernal smirk made a reappearance and Hermione’s gaze narrowed as Malfoy moved closer to her, his eyes locked on hers.

“Let me _kiss_ you,” he whispered deeply, and Hermione desperately tried to suppress the shiver that moved throughout her body at the seductive tone. “And if your magic doesn’t like me, I’m sure you’ll know fairly quickly, yes?”

Hermione giggled softly as she shook her head in exasperation.

“Is this just some cheesy way of getting me to kiss you, Malfoy?”

His answering lopsided grin was sexy as hell, and Hermione felt her stomach swoop with butterflies at how utterly sinful he looked all confident and in control.

“Maybe?” His deep chuckle made goosebumps appear down her arms, and then she felt his hands move up to cup her cheeks as he kept eye contact with her. “Let me kiss you, Hermione Prewett. I’ve wanted to kiss you for _longer than you could possibly know.”_

Blue eyes widened in shock but before she could reply, Malfoy’s lips pressed firmly onto hers...

And then everything else came into sharp relief.

Her magic—that had always felt agitated and a little bit off...

Hummed...

Pulsed...

Heated...

_Groaned_...

Or maybe that was just her...

It was hard to tell what was her and what was her magic but one thing she did know for certain was that Draco Malfoy could kiss...

And she was in _heaven_.

Her hands were in his hair, and she didn’t remember putting them there.

His tongue was in her mouth and she couldn’t remember how that had happened either.

Her hands were hot—her stomach a volcano and her core was pulsing with a need she’d never experienced before..._ever_...

It was that sensation that made her pull back with a gasp as stormy grey eyes stared at her in unbridled want.

In need...

_Fuck!_

** _She was so screwed!_ **

Clearing her throat primly she bit her lip again hard and heard Malfoy’s answering growl as he pulled her lip from her teeth in warning.

“So?” He drawled huskily, “Should we try that again, or has your question been sufficiently answered?”

His smug expression had her rolling her eyes as she stood up immediately and stared him down.

He didn’t seem to be intimidated as he grinned wolfishly up at her knowingly.

“You’re a smug prat.”

“And you’re a stubborn witch.”

Shaking her head, Hermione turned and headed back towards the Manor but didn’t get too far when she felt a gentle hand reach for her to halt her steps.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.” She said evenly. “I have a lot to process.”

“Really?”

“Apparently.”

Draco sighed. “Hermione,” his voice was cajoling as he asked softly, “May I call on you this week?”

Her breath stuttered as she looked up into his eyes in shock.

But Draco just smirked in that _oh, so infuriating way of his._

“I told you before, that I intended to court you. Is that not what you want, Princess?”

Hermione groaned and was about to speak when the balcony door opened and Theo walked out with Harry, Blaise and surprisingly....her Grandmother, Adrian and Lucius Malfoy.

“Shite.” She whispered lowly, and Draco snickered as he hummed in agreement.

“Dearest, there you are.” Muriel’s voice echoed in the silence as she and the others walked down the steps and Hermione just grimaced when she looked up at the balcony again and saw Narcissa Malfoy standing there with Theo’s father.

It would seem the cat was out of the proverbial bag.

“Yes, Grandmother.”

Muriel’s eyes locked onto the young Malfoy Heir and she hummed thoughtfully as the young wizard bowed respectfully to her.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Grandmother. Draco and I were just talking.”

“I see,” Muriel demurred haughtily as she glanced over at Lord Malfoy, who’s expression was impassive even if his eyes were glittering with amusement, “And what conclusions did you both reach?”

Hermione’s gaze met Adrian’s, then Theo’s but Harry was just grimacing unhappily as he stared at Malfoy in horror.

“Don’t look like that, Brother Mine.”

Muriel turned her sharp gaze on Harry, who blushed sheepishly as he mumbled, “Sorry, Hermione.”

Draco just sneered at the other wizard, but his Mother’s not so subtle cough had him backtracking immediately.

“_Awkward_.” Blaise piped in and Theo snorted while Adrian just rolled his eyes.

“Can we go home now, Grandmother?”

“I suppose that would be fine.” Muriel agreed easily enough before her attention was focused back on Lucius.

Then his wife.

“Lady Malfoy...perhaps yourself, husband and son might see fit to come to tea the day after tomorrow at three in the afternoon?”

Narcissa smirked and nodded in agreement. “We would be honored, Lady Prewett.”

“Indeed,” the older witch replied and then turned to Thoros. “Please join us Thoros. Both you and Theodore. It should smooth the way, yes?”

Thoros chuckled deeply and even Lucius seemed amused.

“Probably wise.” Thoros replied.

“Don’t I get a vote?” Hermione groused petulantly, causing Draco to shake his head in amusement.

“Turning me to ash doesn’t count, Hermione.”

Blue eyes locked with grey as she just grinned wickedly. “You’re going to spoil all my fun, Draco.”

The joint laughter of those in the garden that night was light and free, but unfortunately...no one noticed the small rat hovering beneath the hedges staring beady-eyed at the ensemble of clueless individuals that had no idea they were being watched.


	51. No Time to Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The afternoon of the Malfoy’s visit to Fosgate Hall brings about a few surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the lovely reviews and kudos. Much love!

Hermione stared at her reflection in her mirror for a good ten minutes, as she twirled this way and that—fussing over every last detail from her hair to her shoes. For some unfathomable reason, which she really didn’t want to admit to, she actually wanted to look her very best for today.

She still couldn’t believe that Draco Malfoy was coming over with his parents, and she would be sitting down and breaking bread with Lucius Malfoy of all people.

_Was it too late to feign illness?_

She had spent the better part of yesterday going over every detail of the party the evening prior, from the confrontation with the pampered parasites to the talk she’d had with Adrian and finally the kiss with Malfoy—and all of it had left her feeling overwhelmed.

But in different ways.

It was hard to explain to herself and even more challenging to try and justify how in Godric’s name her magic had chosen Malfoy as it’s likely mate. There was still a small part of her logical brain that refused to accept the very stark reality where she ends up bonded with the Slytherin Prince.

But fucking Morgana...the wizard could _kiss!_

Just thinking about it now? 

She smirked as she fanned herself with her hands and hummed pleasantly at the tingling sensations and pulsating throb of heat working its way through her body.

Thankfully a short knock on her door prevented her from engaging in such fantasies long term.

If last night was any indication, she would be having a difficult enough time trying to curb her baser desires.

It was the first time she’d ever made herself climax by her own hand...to thoughts of Draco Malfoy—of all the wizards!

Another knock sounded and giving herself one last appraisal and a short nod of acceptance, the words, “_come in_” fell from her lips.

The door opened and Harry’s messy black hair preceded his smiling face as he peered around the door.

“Hey, Sis, you ready yet? Theo just got here with his Dad.”

“I’m ready.” She demurred, spritzing on a splash of her favorite perfume that her parents had given her last year.

She really needed to go into a Muggle London to check on them.

Harry must’ve noticed something was off because he asked, “Everything alright? Cause if it’s not, we can run off and hide somewhere and let Aunt Muriel deal with the ferret and his family.”

“Harry!” Hermione admonished with a snort. “No calling Draco that name. Especially in mixed company.”

“Fine.” Harry groused as he plopped himself down on the edge of her bed, staring at her critically. “You look too pretty. Please don’t tell me you went through all that effort for Malfoy?”

Hermione looked at the put upon expression on Harry’s face and sighed, as she sat down next to him and nudged his shoulder with her’s.

“Is this really going to be an issue, Brother Mine?” Her voice wavered slightly, and she could feel Harry tense up minutely next to her before he sagged in defeat.

“No,” he replied lowly, “I don’t like it but I won’t make it an issue either.”

“How _generous_ of you.” Hermione snarked and Harry just chuckled at his sister’s cheek.

“I’m a generous wizard.” He bit back playfully before he tilted his head to the side and laid it upon his sister’s shoulder. “Of all the wizards though, why did it have to be _Malfoy?”_

“I’m still not 100% convinced it is but...” Hermione was quick to add when Harry lifted his head up with a hopeful look. “_but_...I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that my reluctance has more to do with my own preconceived feelings about Malfoy than how I instinctively feel.”

“Oh..._joy_.” Harry pouted and Hermione just giggled at how ridiculous he was being.

“Stop it, Harry.”

“Fine.” He stood up and offered her his hand, which she took without hesitation. “But if he so much as puts a single, solitary toe out of line? I’m going to hex his pasty arse into next year.”

“Good to know.”

The two shared a quick laugh before Harry escorted her downstairs to greet their guests, who were probably waiting for them with her Grandmother.

Thankfully, when they arrived into the blue room, only Theo and his Father were waiting.

“Hey, Theo.” Hermione moved over and gave her cousin a hug, which he was getting better about tolerating as he actually hugged her back. When she pulled away she smiled at Lord Nott and curtsied respectfully. “Hello, Sir. Has my Grandmother been down yet?”

“Not as such,” Thoros smiled as he bowed over the young witch’s hand in greeting. “Sabbo led us here, and I must say you look very lovely today, Hermione.”

“Thank you.” Her blush was endearing as she gestured for them all to sit. “And I appreciate you both being drafted into service for today.”

Thoros chuckled deeply, while Theo just grinned.

“We wouldn’t have missed it.”

“Do you think this is a mistake?” Hermione inquired as she stared at Theo questioningly, and her cousin sighed.

“Draco told me he’d mentioned that I figured it out before hols?”

Hermione nodded. “He did, and I’m not upset, Theo. I just don’t understand why my magic would choose someone who has spent the better part of five years tormenting me.”

Theo took in his cousin’s melancholic expression and glanced over at his Father, who seemed to be thinking too—as his eyes were averted towards the doorway, brow furrowed in thought.

“I wish I had an answer that makes sense, Hermione,” Theo offered with that damnable shrug, “but I don’t know. There’s so much about this that is mysterious. I wish there was a book or something I could gift you that might offer you some answers.”

She nodded and bit her lip, her blue eyes downcast as she felt Harry’s hand grip hers in solidarity.

“I suppose I need to learn to trust in my magic more and not try and overthink everything so much?”

“That would be wise, Dearest.” Her Grandmother said evenly as she glided into the room, waving both Thoros and Theodore still when they went to stand in greeting. “Please stay seated, you two...we are family after all and there’s no reason for such formalities amongst family.”

Hermione smiled softly while Thoros just chuckled. “Far be it for me to defy your wishes, Muriel.”

“You’d be wise not to do so, Thoros.” Muriel snarked back before her heavy gaze landed on her granddaughter. “As for you, Dearest...magic isn’t logical and often _challenges_ us in ways we don’t understand until well after the fact. Perhaps, if you had grown up here with me, your Father and Mother...you wouldn’t be struggling to accept—but I feel a certain culpability in that I haven’t taken the opportunity to tutor you as I’ve should have, because I wanted you to feel some measure of control over this new life that has been thrust upon you.”

The room was silent as Muriel’s words fell like weighted bricks upon everyone—but eventually Hermione just said, “I know this hasn’t been easy for you either, Grandmother. But if I might, I’d like to ask a favor?”

“Which is?”

“I’d like to take Harry and go into Muggle London tomorrow.”

Hermione noticed Thoros flinch and Theo just scowled, but Harry seemed confused.

“_Why?”_ Muriel demanded and Hermione replied pleadingly, “I need to check in on the Granger’s. My parents. I need to know if they’re okay and to see for myself firsthand that they’re really lost to me. I want you to know it’s no reflection on my time here. You’ve been more wonderful than I could’ve imagined, Grandmother. But I need to do this to find some closure. If nothing else, I just want to know they’re safe and happy.”

Muriel’s blue eyes bored into her’s and Hermione could see several emotions present. 

There was frustration, understanding and a tinge of fear.

She knew her Grandmother didn’t want to lose anymore family and truth be told, neither did she.

Unfortunately, an answer was not forthcoming as Sabbo came into the room, leading their three guests, who looked impeccable.

Everyone stood, and Draco couldn’t help but feel the tension within the room—and glancing over at his parents—he knew they’d sensed something was amiss too.

“Lord and Lady Malfoy, welcome to Fosgate Hall.” Muriel moved towards her guests and placed the perfunctory air kisses on Narcissa’s cheeks in greeting while Lucius bent over her knuckles with a polished bow. 

When Draco moved forward, the platitudes were repeated in introduction before he moved confidently towards Hermione, who looked simply stunning in her periwinkle day robes.

“Hermione.” He drawled, causing her to smirk up at him, and he could see her desperately trying not to roll her eyes at his heavy-handed chivalry, as he placed the softest of kisses on the back of hand.

“Draco, welcome to my home.”

He bowed again and Muriel offered them seats, with Hermione sitting next to Draco on the smaller loveseat while Theo and Harry sat to Hermione’s left and the Malfoy’s sat on Draco’s right.

Muriel and Thoros sat across from Hermione and Draco.

“I do believe it has been sometime since you’ve had the opportunity to visit, Narcissa.”

“I believe so,” the regal witch demurred, “I think the last time was after my final year at Hogwarts at the Summer Ball. I do remember the rose gardens being particularly lovely that year.”

“Hmm,” Muriel nodded, “the gardens were quite something that year, but nothing compared to this past summer.”

“Oh?” Narcissa asked, intrigued. She had heard from Lucius second-hand that the lands at Fosgate Hall had been simply enchanting when Thoros had visited after Mr. Potter had been grafted into House Prewett. “Such a shame to have missed it. Will you be holding any events here during next summer season?”

Muriel smirked knowingly, while Hermione grimaced and Harry just coughed awkwardly.

“I see.” Narcissa returned Muriel’s expression, before turning her attention to the Prewett Heiress. “You don’t seem too well pleased, Miss Prewett, to be hostessing an event?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m entirely adverse to the idea and Harry is going to _help_ me,” Hermione glanced at her Brother with a wicked grin, “aren’t you, Harry?”

“You’re evil, Sister Mine.”

Everyone laughed at the clearly panicked look on the Chosen One’s face.

“Nonsense, Brother Mine...you’ll be turning of age this summer. We must do something to _commemorate_ the occasion properly.”

“Don’t act like my birthday is your motivation for commandeering me into service,” Harry pouted, “you just want to see me suffer.”

“Maybe.” Hermione winked. “After all the adventures I’ve followed you on throughout our early school years...I think you owe me a favor or _ten_.”

More laughter and Draco had a predatory gleam in his eye as he asked, “So what kind of adventures are we talking about?”

Harry’s face darkened a bit, but Hermione just tutted at Malfoy’s blatant volley.

“Pish-tosh, Draco...” Hermione’s voice held an conspiratorial tone though she wanted to scoff when Malfoy just smirked at her like he knew what was coming. “You can’t expect a witch to not be reticent in revealing her secrets on the very first formal meeting.” She tutted cryptically. “That wouldn’t be very Slytherin of me.”

“You’re not a Slytherin, Hermione.”

Waving her hand obliquely, Hermione just quirked an eyebrow at—whatever he was and said, “I’d like to think we all have the personality traits of all the four Houses within us. Just some more than others.”

“And what traits would you believe recommend you as a Slytherin, Miss Prewett?”

This question had come from Lucius Malfoy, and Hermione just smirked as she said, “Oh, I suppose in due course of trying to keep Harry out of trouble over the years? I might’ve done a bit of larceny, blackmail and liberating wronged parties from certain death.”

Lucius eyes narrowed as Hermione’s smirk just deepened challengingly, while everyone else including her Grandmother was just staring at her like she’d lost her mind.

“Sister...”

“Oh, Harry...” Hermione just smiled indulgently at her brother and he shook his head as if to say, “_whatever you want”_ which she silently agreed to.

She would have a bit of fun alright.

She had earned this.

“What am I missing?” Theo leant forward, giving both his cousin and Potter the stink eye.

They hadn’t told him anything about blackmail, larceny or liberating of criminals.

“Black?” Thoros guessed and Hermione grinned and nodded.

“Buckbeak too.”

“_What?!?”_ Draco’s voice elevated, and Narcissa cleared her throat at her son with a silent head shake of warning.

The blonde just glared at his little spitfire before saying lowly, “You _freed_ that chicken?”

“He’s a hippogriff, Mal...Draco...” Hermione caught herself as she stared triumphantly back. “And yes, I freed both Sirius and Buckbeak...with Harry’s help of course.”

“_Don’t bring me into this.”_ Harry mumbled as he sat back with a moue of exasperation.

“Don’t be silly, Harry. You were with me when I used that time turner...don’t try and claim plausible deniability.” 

Hermione waved her finger playfully at her brother, ignoring the several gasps and in one case, severe glower at this new piece of information.

“Time turner, Dearest?”

Hermione’s gaze met her Grandmother and she nodded. “Professor McGonagall obtained permission from the Ministry for me to use a time turner third year, so I could take all the offered classes.”

“Bloody Hell.” Theo murmured, then flinched at his Father’s disapproving glare.

“Dumbledore _knew_ this?”

Hermione nodded again, and Muriel scowled and pulled her lips together angrily.

“Grandmother?”

It wasn’t hard to miss the dark expression on Muriel Prewett’s face and Lucius Malfoy could only imagine why she was upset. Dumbledore had allowed her granddaughter to use a device that would have sped up her aging process. Not having access to her family magic, Hermione Prewett was left unaware of what such a thing might’ve done to her magical core, and it was even more appalling since she was a Sorceress.

Had Dumbledore purposefully hoped that somehow Miss Prewett’s magical core would’ve been unable to sustain her powers due to manifesting early?

Harry and Hermione stared at each other confused while the rest of the room went deathly silent.

Theo looked _pissed!_

“_**That bastard!”**_ Theo snarled and Hermione’s eyes widened not only at the profanity, but how murderous her cousin looked.

“Indeed.” Thoros replied darkly, giving Lucius a knowing look.

Hermione didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but by Merlin and Morgana someone needed to tell her post haste!

“Grandmother?” Her voice was emotive as she pleaded, “What am I missing?”

Muriel’s blue eyes locked with her granddaughter and then she explained exactly what the issue was. 

As she finished, Hermione’s face was ashen while Harry barked out in rage, “Are you shitting me!?”

“Harry!” Muriel reprimanded her nephew, but he just turned to his sister and could see her body shaking with adrenaline, and tears starting to well in her eyes as she stared at him in shock.

“Hermione?”

Her body started to react to the swirl of thoughts and emotions moving through her mind and body. 

Had Dumbledore wanted her to perish? 

If she hadn’t been cursed by Dolohov and left for dead, would her magic have consumed her in the end? 

She was near death and had it not been for her powers manifesting—she would have in all likelihood, died.

Harry could see how distressed Hermione was. She had been similarly distraught fifth year when her magic was all over the place.

“He _knew_,” She whispered brokenly, “you tried to talk to him about my magic fifth year, and he _lied_ and said he didn’t understand what was happening to me.”

Big blue eyes filled with tears, and Hermione stood up suddenly, her body trembling terribly. “Grandmother, I need to be excused.”

Muriel nodded and watched as the last part of her Fabian dashed out of the room hastily.

Harry went to leave too, but Muriel stopped him cold.

“Harry, please explain to me what you related to Dumbledore fifth year?”

Green eyes looked at Theo pleadingly and the Slytherin sighed and nodded, getting permission to follow Hermione while Harry explained the particulars of what had happened.

“We went to McGonagall when Hermione’s magic starting acting erratic, and she went to Dumbledore personally. We took Hermione to Madam Pomfrey and she did some magical scans. The results showed her magic was increasing but Dumbledore wasn’t convinced. However, by the time it became a critical issue, Dumbledore had disappeared from Hogwarts due to Umbridge.”

Muriel Prewett wasn’t the kind of witch to sit idly by and allow anyone to harm her family. Back during the first Wizarding War both Fabian and Gideon had been loyal members of the Order but even so, Fabian never trusted anyone completely except Marlene and his brother.

For all of Fabian’s stubborn willfulness, he loved his family with the fiercest of devotion. It had been hard for Muriel to not know _why_ her Grandson had refused to allow his only child and heir to remain safe at Fosgate Hall. 

He had never told her directly of the Prophecy, but Muriel was no fool.

And she had known something hadn’t added up.

Now as the pieces of the puzzle were starting to fall into place, Muriel Prewett knew for a fact that there was more to this secret Prophecy than her Great-Grandaughter being a Sorceress. More than her being bonded to the Malfoy Heir but for the life of her, she couldn’t figure what the piece of the puzzle she was missing in all of this.

“What are you thinking, Muriel?” Thoros inquired with concern and Muriel turned to him with a deep frown marring her elderly features.

“That there is something I am fundamentally missing. Why would he wish Hermione dead? Why would he play with her life in such a way if there wasn’t more to this than what we know?”

“And what do we know?” Narcissa asked, her voice tight.

“We know that there was a Prophecy in regards to Hermione’s heritage. _That_ was why Fabian absconded with Marlene and Hermione and placed them somewhere where he’d hoped they’d be safe. We know that Dumbledore most likely knows of this Prophecy in its entirety. He may be the only one left alive who does.”

Lucius steepled his fingers as he nodded thoughtfully.

“I would tend to agree.”

“And he knew enough to decide to save you from Azkaban, my Friend.” Thoros drawled unhurriedly. “He did so to spare your Heir a worser fate.”

“But why?” Draco asked in confusion and all eyes landed on him. “We know Dumbledore hates the Malfoy Family, so why would he spare Father, and me by extension? Wouldn’t it be more beneficial to him to see the Malfoy Family fall into magical ruin?”

Everyone considered that factoid and even Harry had to agree that Malfoy was spot on.

He was learning the hard way that Dumbledore never did anything without an ulterior motive.

So what was the reason?

“Why do you think he had the McKinnon family leave their ancestral home?” Harry asked, as the question had been bothering him for months. “I’ve been there and the wards are _formidable_. So why would he have done such a thing?”

Muriel’s gaze locked with Thoros and she could see him pondering the question too.

None of this made a lick of sense.


	52. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tea party with the Malfoy’s continues to bring about a few unexpected surprises.

“Hermione?” Theo called out as he made his way towards the one place he knew his cousin would likely be.

The library.

Which was on the main floor towards the back right of the Manor, as it had the largest French doors in the home that opened into a beautiful balcony area that was covered by a large trellis and a pathway that led out to a smattering of greenhouses which were tended to by several of the House elves.

“Hermione?” He called a second time as he made his way out through the French doors and out to the balcony where, sure enough...his cousin was sitting down on a long chair that was her favorite place to read.

“Theo.” She looked back over her shoulder and sighed. “Should I go back?”

“Not yet.” He replied as he sat down on a chair next to her spot and did his normal helpless shrug. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

“Okay?”

Blue eyes stared at him and Theo couldn’t help but feel awful for Hermione, who kept having these benders thrown her way.

“What should I say, Theo? How in Merlin’s name does any of this make a lick of sense?”

“You mean with Dumbledore?”

Hermione nodded and bit her lip in frustration.

“Harry and I spent five years dealing with the Headmaster, and I never once got the sense he was a danger to Harry or myself. Yes, we got away with far too much—especially in those early years, but if we hadn’t—if Dumbledore hadn’t looked the other way? Who knows what might’ve happened?”

“Maybe,” Theo prevaricated, “but it doesn’t change the fact that the old wizard isn’t all he appears to be, Hermione. Did it ever occur to you that Dumbledore was just _using_ you, Harry and even Ron to do his dirty work for him?”

Hermione blanched at that and looked off into the gardens, wondering if Theo’s point wasn’t spot on.

“You really think that?” She inquired softly after a few moments of tense silence.

“I think based on the facts that the idea has merit, and not one you should dismiss either.”

“This is all so confusing!” Her voice was both angry and shrill, and Theo just nodded in agreement.

“I don’t doubt that it is.” He watched Hermione clench and unclench her hands and then noticed her body was shaking a bit. “Are you alright?”

Theo gazed pointedly down at her hands, and watched as Hermione lifted them in front of her face trying to get control over her agitation.

“My magic is feeling restless.” She said after a moment.

“Maybe you need to let off a little steam then?”

She just smirked at her cousin and then grabbed his hand, ignoring his shouted protests as she pulled him up with her and led him down into the gardens below with an infectious giggle.

“Oh, come on, cousin...” she grinned mischievously, “let’s go let off some steam!”

“Hermione!” Theo pulled back slightly, “When I suggested it, I didn’t mean I should join you!”

“Oh pish! You know you love it when I commandeer you for a bit of fun!”

“Do not!”

“So, do!”

“Do not!” Theo’s voice was part exasperation and part amusement.

“Oh really?” She bit back playfully. “Look down, cousin?”

When Theo gazed down, his eyes widened when he noticed they were up in the air...about 150 metres up in the air. The breeze...which should’ve been cold and frigid was warm and balmy and he chuckled at how well his cousin could control not only her magic, but the elements around her.

“Evil witch.”

Hermione giggled, then quipped breezily, “But you love me anyway!”

Theo blushed but nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

That admission brought Hermione up short, but then she smiled wider than Theo had ever seen her do, before she launched herself at him and gave him a fierce hug...which he returned just as intensely.

“I love you too, cousin. This whole mess has been so much more bearable because of you.”

Theo pulled back and blushed even harder. “What about Harry?”

“I love Harry. He’s my brother, but let’s be honest? Harry doesn’t know a thing about the magical Pureblood world and he likely won’t have to be shackled to it either. You’ve helped me figure out all this nonsense and it’s made it so much easier than it would’ve been. More than actually, so thank you for that.”

“Anytime, Hermione. We’re family now. So whatever you need, I’m here for it.”

Her smile was beyond delighted and Theo couldn’t help but think that he was the one who lucked out from this situation.

“Do we have to go back inside?” She pouted, but Theo just shrugged again.

“How’s your magic feeling?”

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed. “Still ruffled.”

“Well, then?”

Her laugh was infectious as she moved away from him and held out her hands...letting the flames encase her entire body and Theo just smiled at how amazing Hermione looked at that moment. Her hair was swirling behind her in fire and the rest of her was glowing brightly in the afternoon light. When he looked down, he wasn’t surprised to see their entire tea party staring up at them with awe and amusement.

Harry was grinning widely, while Theo’s Father and the Malfoy’s seemed stunned.

Muriel was just smirking and shaking her head.

“Hey, cousin?”

Hermione looked at him and he nudged his chin down, silently telling her they had company. When she tilted her head down to take in the scene below, she just giggled and nodded.

“Should I give them a show?”

Theo just shook his head, but before he could reply she waved her hand and he was back down on the ground next to his Father...who gasped in wonder.

“Did she do that?”

Theo chuckled and demurred, “It’s not the first time either.”

Thoros hummed in return, giving Lucius an impressed look before focusing back on the vision above.

Draco stared at Hermione in wonder. 

He’d seen this before—once the memory had been returned to him and he could see his Mother’s surprised expression but his Father wasn’t daunted in the least.

And it made Draco wonder, not for the first time how different her transformation had been that night back at the Ministry.

He glanced back up and then heard Theo say, “She was shaking when I found her. I think her magic was reacting to everything and she needed to let off a bit of energy.”

Draco’s gaze moved over to where Theo was standing next to Potter, as the two were whispering to each other.

Then there was a cry...a Phoenix cry and Draco’s head lifted back upwards quickly just in time to see Hermione’s aura expanding and then there was a crack of flame...

And then the raw cry of the Phoenix was heard again as she flew down towards them—_in all her glory._..her red, orange and yellow plumes of feathers more noticeable the closer she got.

His Mother’s gasp, as she placed her hand over her heart and his Father’s quick intake of breath were to be expected.

Theo’s father muttered, “_amazing_” as they all watched the majestic bird land and start squawking at them.

“Dearest,” Muriel tutted, “is now really the time for such theatrics?”

A few more trills and an indignant squawk had them all laughing as Hermione fluffed out her feathers in what Draco could only describe as haughty indignation.

“Are you going to join us back for tea?” Muriel admonished, “Or should I have Corky bring you a nice rodent of some kind to eat?”

More laughter as everyone joined in the mirth and even Hermione seemed amused as she fluttered over to her Grandmother and nipped at her playfully...earning a fond, wistful smile from the older witch.

“I do so wish your Father could be here to see this though.” Muriel mused quietly and Hermione nudged her beak into her Grandmother’s forearm...

And then something amazing happened...

A single tear fell from Hermione’s eye onto her Grandmother’s hand, and Muriel gasped as the solitary offering dissipated into her skin.

She grabbed her chest in wonder and smiled as all the seemingly aches and pains of her advanced age vanished.

Even her appearance appeared to glow a bit, as the visible signs of age dimmed slightly.

As everyone stared at Hermione, she just ruffled her feathers again and gave a piercing look towards Theo’s father. Tilting her head, she squawked again and moved over to him, nipping at his left forearm repeatedly.

Thoros just seemed bemused as he glanced over to his son—who’s expression was thoughtful.

Then amused, as Hermione kept poking at the same spot and trilled in what Thoros could only describe as irritation.

“What is it, Hermione?” Thoros mused as he took his right finger and petted the bright crown of feathers on the bird’s head.

However, it was Draco who made the connection as he offered, “I was disillusioned one night on the Astronomy Tower and Hermione could see through the charm when she was in this form.”

Thoros nodded reluctantly, as Hermione kept pecking at his left forearm stubbornly.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you, young lady?”

The high pitched trill and full shuddering not to mention the intensive stare down afterwards, let Thoros know that the young witch indeed...wasn’t going to let this go.

So he removed his outer robes and then uncuffed his left sleeve, rolling it up to expose the Dark Mark.

It had faded, but not completely. Where the mark was once a dark black in color, when the Dark Lord was alive...during his first disappearance the color had faded slightly, but it hadn’t swirled and moved like it had when he was at full power.

Now, it was a greyish color, the borders lighter than the whole.

When he uncovered the mark fully, he heard the Potter lad hiss and felt his body stiffen—but the resounding squawk from the Phoenix staring at the mark, quieted everyone.

Then his eyes met his son’s and Thoros could see the flash of disappointment there—of pain, fear and disgust and for the first time in his life, Thoros felt profoundly ashamed of what he’d chosen for himself.

_What his Father had chosen for him._

It was the reason he had all but insisted to the Dark Lord that his son would not be branded until after his schooling was completed. 

He had explained, that in order for Theodore to be the best soldier for the cause that he could be...he needed to have the best education and training that could be provided. The Dark Lord had been a studious learner as well, according to his own Father and thankfully, that tactic had seemed to appease the Dark Lord.

It had been the best compromise he could’ve hoped for under the circumstances.

He sighed softly at his son, then watched as Hermione in her animagus form moved a bit closer and a solitary tear fell from her eye and directly onto his Dark Mark.

Healing it nearly instantly.

_Powerful magic!_

Looking down in astonishment, Thoros missed the awestruck expressions from those within their group and it was only the sound of Hermione cawing as she preened in what looked to be satisfaction, that he was finally pulled from his stupor.

He smiled slightly and bowed his head in gratitude.

“_Thank you_, my dear.”

Another squawk and then she flew and landed on Theo’s shoulder nuzzling him happily for a moment before she lifted her beak and made a motion like she was sniffing the air.

Then her head whipped to the left as Crookshanks scampered out of the garden towards a grove of bushes and everyone stilled as Hermione’s gaze focused on something—and before they knew what was going on...she took flight screeching as she went straight into the same thatch of flowering beds that Crookshanks had gone into and then there was several sounds of a scuffle until she pulled something up by one her talons.

_It was a rat._

She started to caw madly at everyone but it was Harry that recognized the offensive rodent, and took out his wand conjuring a cage and wasting no time bringing it over and letting Hermione place the rat into the trap.

When the door was shut, Harry grinned menacingly, while everyone just stared at the two of them like they were mad.

“Harry,” Muriel admonished, “what in the world are you both doing?”

Harry lifted the cage and brought it over to where all could see their new guest.

“Aunt Muriel, I’d like to introduce you to _Wormtail_...”

Lucius and Thoros hissed and Narcissa’s expression darkened.

“Excuse me?”

There was another flash and then Hermione was standing there enraged as she stomped over and grabbed the cage from her brother, her eyes on fire as the rat cowered back from her in fear.

“Peter Pettigrew, Grandmother. The wizard that not only betrayed Harry parents to Voldemort, but my parents too.” 

She watched Muriel’s expression darken ominously, as she snarled at the rat.

“You are _sure_ of this?”

Hermione nodded.

“How?” Thoros asked curiously.

“I can see auras in my Phoenix form, so it was fairly simple to discern Crookshanks aura from Pettigrew’s. Perhaps it’s time to call the Aurors, Grandmother. Something tells me he won’t escape justice this time around. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Muriel looked to Thoros who nodded in agreed understanding and left to go back inside to send a floo call to the Ministry—while everyone else just glared at the cage where the ugly rodent was scampering—desperately trying to find a way out.

“Grandmother, isn’t there such a thing as anti-animagus wards?”

Lucius chuckled and shook his head. “No, I don’t believe there is, Miss Prewett. Perhaps that might be a field of Mastery for you to think about?”

Hermione’s eyes glinted with interest as she bit her lip in contemplation—causing Draco, Theo and Harry to chuckle knowingly.

“I _know_ that look.” Harry quipped and Theo nodded.

“What?” Her expression was pure innocence as she clarified, “It’s a decent idea.”

“Salazar, witch!” Draco shook his head, “Maybe pass your NEWTS first before thinking about a Mastery in Charms?”

“Oh no,” Hermione grinned back with a wicked smile, “for something like that it would require at least a dual Mastery in Charms and Transfiguration. Maybe another in Arithmancy or Runes too.”

Draco’s expression was amused but his eyes were flashing as he knew exactly why she was baiting him—and by the look on her face?

His little vixen knew it too.

Even his parents seemed amused.

“I suppose you don’t plan to have a life after Hogwarts?”

“Why, Draco?” Hermione purred, “Would there be any particular reason I’d need to curb my academic pursuits?”

He shrugged and bantered back easily, “Not at all. Maybe I’ll try out for a professional Quidditch team.” He inwardly smirked at the narrowing of Hermione’s eyes, as he turned his attention to Potter and Theo. “What do you think, Potter? Want to forego Auror training and see which one of us gets picked up first, as a Seeker for a Quidditch team after graduation?”

Lucius tried not to immediately react, and even Narcissa sensed there was something she was missing based on the way her dragon and his future bonded were eyeing each other like prey.

A kind of brinkmanship for sure.

“You’re bluffing.” Hermione scoffed, and Draco just chuckled and wagged his finger at her.

“I suppose you’ll have to wait and see, Princess—besides? I thought you had a thing for Quidditch players, or was Krum just an aberration?”

Hermione handed the rats cage back to Harry and stalked over to Malfoy, staring up at him with her hands on her hips, while he just looked down at her with that infuriating smirk on his pointed face.

“So what if I do have a thing for Quidditch players?” Hermione taunted and Draco’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Viktor is an _excellent_ seeker, _best of his generation.” _Her lips lifted tauntingly. “At least you seemed to think so fourth year, as I clearly recall you _fanboying_ all over him.”

“Fanboying?” Draco’s expression morphed into confusion.

“Muggle phrase, mate.” Harry grinned, hugely entertained.

Draco’s response however, was halted by Thoros returning with Tonks and Kingsley.

“Good evening.” Kingsley bowed to Muriel who returned his formality with a polite nod of her own. Tonks however, was standing back eyeing her aunt with a wary expression.

Hermione, upon seeing the female Auror, rushed over to her and enveloped her into a crushing hug.

“Hey, Tonks.”

The metamorphmagus just grinned indulgently. “Hey, Hermione. You’re looking well.”

“Thanks.” She grabbed Tonks hand and brought her over to her Grandmother, ignoring the various stares of the rest of her guests.

“Grandmother,” Hermione smiled widely, “allow me to introduce you formally to Nymphadora Tonks, but she goes by Tonks or Dora.”

Muriel smiled demurely. “It is good to see you again, Dora. How is Andromeda these days?”

“She’s well, Ma’am. She’d mentioned that you both have taken to having tea weekly.”

“We do.”

Muriel’s blue eyes settled briefly on Narcissa, who’s own expression was a bit pinched.

“You remember the Malfoy Family?”

Tonks turned and nodded politely at her aunt. “I do. It is good to see you all.”

Narcissa, although surprised by her niece’s politeness, really shouldn’t have been. Whatever her sister’s mistakes in marrying outside her social class, Dromeda was a stickler for etiquette.

“You as well.” Narcissa replied blithely. “Have you formally met Lucius and my son, Draco.”

Tonks turned and smirked at her cousin, “No...I haven’t had the pleasure.”

Draco, understanding this moment for what is was..._an olive branch of sorts._..went over to his cousin, politely took her hand and bowed over it saying, “It is an honor to meet you, cousin.”

Tonks just grinned and quipped back playfully, “For me as well, cousin.”

Hermione smiled widely at them both, and Draco could see the pleasure in her eyes as she considered him.

But there was also a tinge of relief and gratitude as well.

He was surprised that Hermione and his cousin were so well acquainted, but after the will reading— he probably shouldn’t have been.

“So, what’s going on, Hermione?”

Leading Tonks over to Harry, who smiled and nodded in turn...the Boy Who Lived lifted the cage and said icily, “Peter Pettigrew.”

Dora stared in disbelief at the cage as she heard Kingsley’s hiss of shock, but all she could finally get out was a stuttered, “How?”

“Do you want the short or long version?” Hermione replied and Tonks thought for a moment before replying, “Short.”

So the short version was shared and Tonks just shook her head at both Harry and Hermione as she took the cage from them.

“Why do you think he was here?” Tonks asked with a hard edge to her voice, and the rest of the group looked to each other, having not considered that question at all.

“That is a question perhaps he can answer under Veritaserum.” Muriel demanded, as it was clear nothing less would appease her. “And for the record, I do not wish Dumbledore to be involved in this without my permission, so please refrain from advising him directly. I’m sure Amelia will discuss it with me and we can make that judgement once the particulars are done.”

Kingsley seemed surprised, while Tonks just nodded. “I’ll let Madame Bones know of your request.”

“Be _sure_ that you do.”

Thoros and Lucius smirked at the salty witch’s display of dominance but no one who knew Muriel Prewett would ever second guess the fact that when she asked for something, she expected it to be followed through upon.

_With no questions asked._

“Is there anything else we need to know?” Kingsley inquired before they left and Muriel just waved her hand obliquely as if she was done with the intrusion into her family time.

“If there is, Kingsley, I will be sure to advise as such. Now take that thing off my property before I give it to one of my House elves to feed to my Granddaughter’s feline.”

Hermione at that moment called for her familiar, who meowed angrily as it jumped up on the bulstrode of the balcony and hissed at the rat.

“Good boy, Crookshanks.” Hermione purred as she reached for her kneazle, lifting him up into her embrace and gave him a cuddle.

The loud meow and his orange eyes glistening at the offending rodent let everyone know that Crookshanks was not happy at being denied his tasty morsel.

Tonks said her goodbyes and Kingsley just bowed in departure as they left with their prisoner.

Once gone, the rest of the group headed back inside to take part in afternoon tea, not realizing the Pandora’s Box that had just been opened.


	53. Seek...Her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Heading back to Hogwarts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your patience with my erratic updating schedule. And also for the kudos and kind words of praise and encouragement. It’s always appreciated even if I don’t respond right away!

There hadn’t been any word from the Ministry before Hermione and Harry found themselves on the Hogwarts Express returning back to school after winter hols were over. The rest of the holidays had been hard for Hermione, as she’d finally gone to Muggle London to check in on her parents and to see if they were doing well, only to find their home empty.

_Sold_.

Apparently, when the spell broke...somehow, they’d decided to relocate to Australia and they sold their home and dental practice too.

The thought had saddened her greatly, but in her heart she knew they’d be happy there.

They had always talked about going Down Under some day.

Harry and surprisingly Theo, had gone with her into London. Theo had been initially shocked and dismayed with how loud and crowded Muggle London was—but he’d wanted to go and offer his support, especially after Pettigrew had been captured.

Both Theo and Harry were being a bit more clingy than normal.

Even Malfoy, for all his bravado and bluster, has been surprisingly attentive too.

He’d come over the previous day and had brought her a rare book on warding charms he’d found in his family’s library and she had thanked him profusely...before giving him permission to go fly with Harry and Theo while she immersed herself into her new book.

The train ride so far had been fairly calm, as she’d spent most of her time with Harry, Ron and Theo and the three of them couldn’t seem to go for an hour together, without debating the merits of Quidditch.

Hermione wasn’t sure there were any actual merits of Quidditch to be found, but it seemed that if one was a teenaged wizard, then that was the primary prerequisite to debate all things Wronski Feint and whether or not someone’s beater was better than someone’s chaser.

Hermione sat back and thought about the Quidditch terminology for a few moments, before she snickered—which caught the attention of her brother and cousins.

Then her snickers turned into guffaws...

Then outright hysterics as she laughed uproariously at her own private joke.

“Uhm...Mione?” Ron asked, stupefied. “What’s so funny?”

Hermione wiped her eyes with the back of her hand as her grin couldn’t be contained and she noticed three sets of eyes watching her with amusement tinged with confusion.

“It’s nothing, Ron.”

“It’s clearly not nothing, Hermione.”

Theo’s voice was challenging, and Hermione just rolled her eyes at her cousin.

But apparently Harry and Ron weren’t convinced it was nothing either, and Hermione just started laughing again as she simply couldn’t get the inappropriate thoughts out of her head.

“Come on, Sis..._share!”_

Harry was smiling, his green eyes filled with happiness at seeing his Sister so carefree after she’d been understandably wallowing the past few days.

“It’s really nothing.” She admitted sheepishly. “I was just thinking about the strange names that are used for Quidditch.”

The three boys just looked to each other—clearly not getting what was so funny about that.

“Oh come on!” Hermione snickered. “Bludger, beater, chaser..._seeker?_

The three boys were still staring at her, but Hermione just shook her head and mumbled ‘_thick_’ under her breath before standing up.

“I’m going to find the trolley and you three can go on and discuss Quidditch to your heart’s content.”

Ignoring their protests and requests for sweets, Hermione found herself walking towards the back of the train, saying hello to a few people here and there and squeezing past a few more.

The back part of the train was rather crowded so she didn’t immediately notice the shock of pale blonde hair in one of the compartments nor that same person sneaking up behind her until she was nearly to the far back of the train...where the trolley was currently located.

“What are you doing out here all alone, Princess?”

Hermione squeaked and turned around with her hand to her heart, before letting out a small huff at Draco’s playful smirk.

“Sweets.” She replied and Draco just nodded.

“Hmm,” he pulled her next to him as he gazed over her head at the trolley. “I think you’re sweet enough.”

“Cheesy.”

“Is it?” He flashed a grin.

“Definitely.”

Moving up to next in line, she felt Draco’s hand seek her’s out and blushing slightly, she allowed the concession as her fingers entwined with his.

His hand was cool, slightly calloused and her magic hummed happily at the simple touch, causing her to sigh.

“What?” He leant down and whispered into her ear. 

Her blue eyes gazed up into grey and she just shook her head subtly as it wasn’t something she wanted to discuss with others present. They were already catching some attention as it was with their close proximity to each other.

“Something from the trolley, dears?”

“Uhm...I’ll take a package of sugar quills and a pumpkin pasty.”

“Ice mice and fizzing whizzbees please.” Draco drawled.

The trolley lady handed over the treats and Draco gave her the requisite galleons before leading Hermione back to the compartment he was sharing with Blaise, Goyle and Crabbe.

He kept ahold of Hermione’s hand, ignoring the veiled whispers and open stares from everyone they passed along the way. When they finally got back, he opened the compartment door and ushered her inside, tilting his chin at Crabbe to scoot to the other side so he could sit down next to his witch.

“Hey, Prewett.” Zabini smirked at his best mate who just rolled his eyes at him.

“Zabini.”

Hermione glanced over at Crabbe and Goyle, but they were more interested in the treats that Draco had handed to them both. 

She glanced at him questioningly. “Didn’t you get anything for yourself?”

“Nah, I wasn’t really planning on visiting the trolley today, but I happened to see you walking by and figured that’s where you were headed. These two tossers demanded I bring them their favorites back.”

Hermione expression softened as she watched Crabbe and Goyle wrest the goodies from each other as they shared their bounty. Even Zabini seemed amused by their antics.

“Do you want to share mine?” She offered shyly, and Draco just shook his head.

“I’m not a big pumpkin pasty fan, although I have been known to indulge in a sugar quill or two. Perhaps I’ll get to later.” He winked at her and she blushed at the clear double meaning. Blaise just scoffed and shook his head.

“What’s the matter, Blaise? Amused?”

“You know me so well, Draco...I find _everything_ amusing.”

Hermione’s gaze moved back and forth between the two as she clearly was missing something.

It was hard not to be nervous in the presence of those whom had once tormented her blood status, her bossy know-it-all nature. It also saddened her to think that she was essentially the same witch, just with a different last name—but it seemed to make all the difference in the world to some.

Draco watched Hermione’s brow furrow, as it often did when she was deep in thought. 

He’d always found her tendencies to overthink things both insufferable and exasperating. Now that he had been fortunate enough to actually get to know her on a more personal level, he’d come to understand that it was part of who she was. Her perfectionist nature stemmed from an eagerness to please and be accepted. She hadn’t been readily welcomed into the Magical World because she’d been believed to be a Muggleborn—but just because she wasn’t anymore—didn’t mean that she had changed fundamentally who she was deep down.

“You okay?” Draco leant over and whispered lowly, watching as Hermione’s gaze lifted to his own and he could see several emotions there.

Uncertainty, sadness and resignation.

“I’m fine.”

He gave her a dubious look and then turned to his friends and said, “You mind giving us a few?”

Blaise smirked while Greg and Vince just grunted, but they thankfully did follow Blaise out of the compartment.

When they were gone, Draco cupped Hermione’s cheeks and quirked an eyebrow as if to say, ‘_well?’_

“You didn’t have to ask them to leave.”

“Of course I did,” he scoffed softly, “talk to me.”

Hermione instinctively knew Draco wasn’t going to let this go, so she decided to bite the bullet.

“It’s just odd, is all.”

“What is?”

She waved her hand between the two of them and wasn’t surprised when Draco chuckled and nodded.

“It is.”

Hermione’s gaze narrowed while Draco just pulled her into his side and kissed her temple softly, feeling her ire abate before it got a chance to flourish.

“I know this isn’t going to be easy for us, Hermione. We are two of the most stubborn people I know.”

He felt her body shake and knew she was giggling in agreement.

“But I’m sure as time passes,” he forged on, “we will figure out how to not push each other’s buttons, learn to compromise and have patience with the things we don’t understand or can’t change about each other. I’m a prat and you’re a swot. I’m entitled and you’re kind-hearted. I’m a snob and you’re accepting. I’m a traditionalist and you’re a feminist. But we are both smart, motivated and uncompromising when we feel passionately about something. Right now my priorities are you, my studies and my internship.”

“Not Quidditch?”

Draco heaved a sigh, but he was biting back a smile too.

“Fine, witch,” he grumbled. “I would very much like to beat Potter just once before I graduate. Call it silly if you must...”

She lifted her head and cupped his left cheek in her right palm as she said softly, “It’s not.”

“Yeah?”

She just swallowed and nodded as she lost herself in softened grey eyes that were staring at her.

Then she suddenly remembered her earlier conversation with Harry, Theo and Ron and started to snicker again, earning a confused look from Malfoy.

When he went to pull back and his expression closed off, she just shook her head in silent apology.

“Sorry,” she pleaded, “I was just thinking back on an earlier conversation with Harry.”

“Not helping, witch.”

“No! Seriously!” She lamented. “They were obsessively discussing Quidditch tactics and my brain registered something I’d never even considered before, but it just struck me as funny. They didn’t get it though.”

“Oh?” Draco’s expression went from cold to conspiratorial in a flash, eager to have a shared secret between the two of them.

“Yes...I mean it’s silly, really.”

“Then share,” He cajoled silkily, “maybe I’ll get the joke too.”

She eyed him speculatively. “You promise you won’t make fun of me?”

Draco’s expression immediately softened again and he put his hand over his heart and said with all the sincerity he could muster, “You have my solemn word, Princess.”

“Alright,” she said, as she breathed in a bit of courage. “I was just having a laugh over the names used in Quidditch. You know? Bludger, beater, chaser..._seeker_...”

Draco’s brow furrowed as he wondered exactly what kind of connotation would make Hermione think that was amusing. He processed the words silently for a few moments and saw Hermione bite her lip in anticipation to see if he would get the joke.

It took him about four minutes total...but when he got the context his face morphed into a sexy smirk.

Then he chuckled deeply, pleased when his witch started to blush—but her eyes were alight with pleasure.

He shook head and growled out, “What a _naughty_ witch you are, Miss Prewett.”

She just bit her lip harder, desperately trying to keep herself from smiling.

So his witch liked to play, eh? 

Draco thought to himself as he tilted his head down and ran his lips softly on Hermione’s neck, murmuring into her skin.

“So which _one_, my little deviant?”

Tiny kisses flowed up Hermione’s neck as Draco barely touched her skin with his lips—which were oh, so soft and she shivered at the contact.

“I don’t think Bludger, eh?”

She shook her head and giggled softly as his lips moved from her neck to behind her ear and he gently bit down on the soft, fragrant skin there—earning a hitched gasp.

“And a Beater?”

“No.” She whispered, so he continued on the path from her ear to her temple.

“I could Chase you...you might like that?”

“_Mmmm_...”

Her head tilted back slightly as Draco kissed each eye lid and wandered his lips down Hermione’s cheek.

Right before he stopped and hovered his mouth over hers, their gazes locked and he said sinfully, “But right now? I think I’ll Seek out a kiss, instead.”

When his mouth covered hers, he felt her entire body mold perfectly into his. The kisses were soft and sensual with lips pulling and pushing on each other in perfect synchronization. Then he felt her tongue shyly caress the edge of his lower lip and he growled and opened his mouth, allowing his witch to have her way with him.

He didn’t know how long they were sitting there, ravishing each other’s mouths but the clearing of Blaise’s throat and his smarmy chuckle had Draco promising himself he was going to hex the blighter, even if he was his best mate.

Thankfully, Hermione’s back was to the compartment door and as Draco lifted his head, it was to several sets of eyes staring at them both.

Blaise, Potter, Theo, Weasley...

He looked down at Hermione’s face and she cracked open a single eye and smirked.

“_Bludger_...” she whispered and Draco threw back his head and laughed, pulling her into his embrace as they both lost themselves to their private joke, not missing the looks of confusion on the faces of their friends...

That brought him up short...

Was he now friends with Potter and Weasley?

A single glance at the Boy Wonder and his red-headed side kick, and seeing their mutual grimaces of disgust?

Made Draco feel a bit better as he simply couldn’t abide being overly chummy with the witless duo, no matter how much his witch might love the dunderheads.

_He still had standards after all._

“We need to get ready, Draco. We will be getting to Hogwarts soon, so your little snogfest is going to have to wait for another time.”

“Shut it, Blaise.” Theo groused, shaking his head in warning. “Hermione, why don’t you head back with Harry and Ron?”

Hermione nodded, and smiled as Draco stood and gallantly helped her to her feet, placing one last kiss on her knuckles as he gave her a playful wink in parting. He grinned as she flipped her hair and sashayed out of the compartment, grabbing her Gryffindors to go with her. When she was gone, Theo just stared at him, while Blaise sat back down on the bench and chuckled.

“Are you going to chastise me, Theodore?” Draco drawled while Theo just continued to stare at him.

It was starting to make him uncomfortable.

After a moment Theo moved into the compartment and shut the door and silenced the room.

“Did I _miss_ something?” The Nott Heir bit out slowly.

Draco and Blaise eyed each other, but neither one of them were stupid nor ignorant.

“No, you didn’t.”

“So? You’re snogging my cousin in _public_, and you’ve yet to send a formal letter of intent to her Grandmother? Or did I miss something?”

Draco sat down and gestured for Theo to do the same, which he did reluctantly after a moment.

“Theo? I haven’t had that conversation with Hermione yet. She’s still trying to get used to the idea of me being her likely bonded. You really need to allow her to take the lead and do what she needs to feel comfortable.”

“And if you get to use her ignorance to your benefit?”

“Come on, mate, that’s uncalled for.” Draco bit out, slightly hurt that Theo didn’t know him better than that. “I’ll admit, it wasn’t well done of me to forget to place a few privacy charms before I snogged my witch in public, but one thing you need to understand about my dynamic with your cousin—is that for all her Gryffindor bravado, if I do anything that makes her think I’m ashamed of being seen with her...her old insecurities about me and whether or not I’m a good choice, is going to cause that brilliant, logical part of her brain to war again with her magic. Is that what you want?”

Theo’s arms were folded over his chest in defiance but Draco could see that his words had hit their mark.

“You really think she’ll feel...”

“Yes I do.” Draco didn’t even let Theo finish his statement. He knew Hermione well enough to know that she would most definitely feel insecure under those circumstances and that was the last thing he wanted her to feel. “I’m letting her take charge here and do what feels right for her. Don’t get in the way of that, Theo. You need to trust Hermione that she can do this.”

“And I’m just supposed to blindly trust you, too?”

“I would like to think you would, but I’m a Slytherin and we both know that trust isn’t something we throw around lightly. If you can’t trust in my intentions, you know you can trust in my self-preservation, right? I’d rather not be turned to ash if my witch has a fit of pique and decides to punish some perceived slight.”

Theo nodded and chuckled. He definitely could trust Draco’s sense of survival. He was a snake, through and through.

“Fine.”

“Gee, thanks, mate. Don’t sound so put out by the prospect.”

“It’s not that, Draco,” Theo offered, “I just need to know you’ll put her first always.”

“Of that you don’t have to worry.”

“I’m going to hold you to that.”


	54. A Shock to the System

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione learns about Dolohov and Pureblood courting in the same day.

Several days had passed in the new term before Hermione received word from her Grandmother about Pettigrew’s capture and subsequent fate.

Fortunately, the Prophet hadn’t gotten ahold of the story as of yet, and Hermione was fairly certain that would be changing shortly, but what she didn’t expect was the contents of her Grandmother’s letter.

Pettigrew had been turned over to Madame Bones for interrogation and he had been given Veritaserum as a result, but what information he’d given up had Hermione paling and shaking in shock. When she’d handed the letter to her brother, Harry read the words and growled angrily...his fist slamming down on the Gryffindor table startling everyone in the Great Hall.

He then turned his head and glared at the Headmaster, before gripping his sister’s hand and pulling her with him out of the Great Hall, ignoring everyone’s stares. Ron was close at their heels, as were Theo and Draco—who immediately grabbed their belongings and rushed out after the Golden Trio.

They’d made it as far as an empty classroom along the second floor corridor, before Harry led them inside and warded the room for privacy.

He then handed the letter to Ron, who read it and his angry, “_Bloody hell”_ was followed by similar reactions from Theo and Draco.

Hermione felt her body shaking with uncontrolled rage and fear.

_How in the fuck did Dolohov escape from Azkaban?_

She didn’t realize her magic was starting to manifest until she felt the soothing touch of her wizard as he wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his body...calming her instantly.

“It’s going to be _okay_, Princess.”

She gripped Draco’s robes tightly and burrowed her head into his chest, not noticing the looks of astonishment from her brother and cousins.

“What are we going to do?”

Harry glanced at Theo, who had spoken up in angry disbelief.

“I think the bigger question is, how did Dolohov manage to get out of Azkaban and no one knew before now?” Ron gritted out, beyond irate.

“It had to have been Pettigrew.” Harry bit back in disgust.

Hermione lifted her head and stared up into worried grey eyes that were gazing down at her. Taking a deep breath, she turned around in Draco’s embrace as he pulled her gently into the safety of his arms...trying to keep her calm.

“Grandmother didn’t go into the particulars,” Hermione lamented with a sigh, “I just wonder why it hasn’t been reported in in the Prophet.”

“Probably because they don’t want to encourage mass hysteria.” Theo replied with a shake of his head. “After everything that happened with the mass breakouts last year? People will have their speculations.”

“You’re thinking that people will think he’s back?” Harry demanded and Theo shrugged, not needing to say the actual words for them all to know what he meant.

“What do we do?” Ron asked and Harry just rubbed his scar, which he hadn’t done in quite some time.

Not since before the Dark Lord had been defeated.

“I think we need to find out just what in Godric’s name is going on.” Harry’s voice and demeanor was aggressive, as he paced back and forth in the room. “I’m going to send an owl to Remus and Tonks. If anyone knows what’s going on, it will be them.”

“I think that’s a good idea, Harry.” Hermione agreed readily.

“Are you going to be alright?”

“I’ll be fine, Harry. Go owl Tonks and tell her I said ‘_hello_’ and that I’ll be expecting her to come visit me in Hogsmeade next month.”

“I’ll do that.” Harry grinned and left the room with Ron following close behind. Theo just stood there a bit awkwardly, unsure what to do.

“Are you going to head to the library?”

Hermione sighed, but shook her head in the negative. “Not right now, Theo. But you go ahead, and I’ll catch up with you later.”

Theo’s bright blue eyes gazed between his cousin and her new paramour, and his brow furrowed while Draco was trying his hardest not to sneer at his mate’s obvious overprotectiveness.

“She’ll be fine, Theo.”

The Slytherin just glowered, but Hermione’s finger pointing at the door, making her wishes clear had him mumbling about bossy Gryffindor’s.

Although he did eventually leave.

After the door closed, Draco turned Hermione around and cupped her cheeks in his hands, eyeing her with concern.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“No,” she admitted with a sigh. “Thank you for calming me down.”

Draco leant his forehead down to her’s and breathed his witch’s sweet perfume in for a few moments before he replied saucily, “Still think you’re not mine?”

Hermione scoffed. “No need to get all smug about it, Malfoy.”

“Oh, Ho! So I’m Malfoy again?”

“When you act like a self-entitled git, you are.”

Hermione couldn’t help but blush at Draco’s deep chuckle and his heated look.

“Maybe you need a reminder?”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned up and whispered, “_Yes, please.”_

Draco lowered his lips to hers, instantly deepening the kiss when their lips touched. Hermione’s breathy moans didn’t do much to help his self control either, as he wrapped one hand around her waist and another cupped her cheek to hold her to him as he controlled the kiss just the way he liked it.

She seemed to enjoy it too, if the purchase of her hands on his neck and in his hair was any indication.

When they finally came up for air, Draco’s hair was destroyed and Hermione’s lips were red and swollen, causing him to rub his thumb along her lower lip in satisfaction.

“I probably shouldn’t test Theo’s patience.”

Hermione rolled her eyes playfully. “Theodore needs to learn that I am my _own_ witch and I can take care of myself. Besides, I’m not going to rush into anything physical, Draco.”

“I know that,” he admonished with a smirk. “Whatever else you might think of me, Hermione...I was raised to treat my witch with all due consideration and courtesy.”

“How _romantic_.”

Draco nipped her throat in warning. “Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit.”

“Have much experience with that?”

“Touché?” He bit back before his expression took on a serious quality. “But really, I’m happy to follow your lead. I know you didn’t grow up with the same constraints I did in regards to courting.”

“Is that what we’re doing?”

Draco blanched. “I thought that was rather obvious.”

She shrugged as she bit her lip, her blue eyes watching his expression closely as she admitted, “I wasn’t sure what the protocol for this was? I mean, I didn’t want to assume.”

Shaking his head in exasperation, Draco pulled Hermione’s hand with him as he guided her out of the classroom. “Theo chastised me on the train for not setting up privacy wards.”

“When we were kissing?”

He nodded.

“You did call Adrian out on that, if I remember correctly.”

“I _did_.” Draco’s voice was unapologetic, as he entwined Hermione’s hand within his own and led her towards the library...noticing the looks of interest from their classmates. “But I told Theo I didn’t want you to think I wanted to hide this and while I haven’t sent a formal letter of intent to your Grandmother, that _is_ my intention. I suppose I was just waiting for you to give me the all clear.”

Hermione stopped abruptly, her expression surprised. “Seriously?”

“Well...yes...I mean, I know that you’re somewhat of a feminist, Hermione. But traditions are such that I wouldn’t want to minimize what we are building nor would I wish to insult your Grandmother.”

Hermione stared up at him and bit her lip again as she contemplated all the various variables before sighing in resignation. She didn’t necessarily like the idea of a formal courtship, but she did know enough from Theo and her Grandmother that something like this would be expected being who Malfoy was and she herself as having the kind of wealth that was part of her inheritance. A formal courtship and betrothal was therefore, likely expected.

Especially if Malfoy were to end up being her bonded—and as time passed, and her magic seemed more grounded...she had to wonder if the only thing holding her back was herself.

“What would be entailed in a courtship?”

Draco’s eyes widened as he cleared his throat. “Uhm, well...several things really.”

“Such as?”

Draco sighed, as they reached the library and he turned to face her fully, his expression uncertain.

“Maybe this should be one of those instances you ask Theo about?”

“Why?” Hermione was curious as to why Draco would defer this conversation to her cousin.

“Because, I’m sure there are several of the more noted Pureblood customs that you’re going to find antiquated and annoying and I’d rather not be on the end of your ire when you inevitably hear something you don’t like.”

“Scaredy cat.”

“Huh?”

“Muggle saying.”

“Oh.” Draco shook his head as he shooed her into the library. “Be that as it may? Theo is your resource for _all things Pureblood courting and betrothal.”_

And with a wink, Draco left her standing at the library entrance with her mouth hanging open in shock before her brain caught up with her and she blurted out in irritated amusement, “You’re a snake, Malfoy!”

Draco pivoted around in a circle and smiled, “Guilty as charged, love.”

He gracefully turned back in retreat and Hermione couldn’t help but watch him saunter away, his trousers molded to his arse rather fetchingly.

Fuck! 

Who’d ever thought, she be _ogling_ Draco Malfoy’s arse?

Definitely not her!

Shaking her head, Hermione walked into the library in search of her cousin.

It would seem she had a few things to learn about courtships and hopefully, it wouldn’t piss off her righteous feminism too much.

Walking further into the library, it didn’t take her long to find Theo in their usual study spot and as she plopped down ungracefully in her seat, she openly glared at her cousin, who’s own expression was perplexed.

“Hermione?”

“So, Theodore...tell me about this courting nonsense, please.”

His gaze narrowed, and then he sat back with an amused grin. “What’s the matter? Draco too much of a wuss to tell you himself?”

“Something like that.”

“So he volunteered me?”

“Something like that.”

Theo chuckled. “Didn’t your Grandmother talk to you about this at all this past summer?”

Hermione considered this, then shrugged. “Not much. I get the feeling there’s more to this than what I know.”

“Probably,” Theo agreed half-heartedly. “But I suppose a proper education never hurt anyone, right?”

“Don’t get all smug on me, cousin. I just need to know for today at least, what is up with the public displays of affection. Draco called out Adrian and I before school started back in August when he caught us snogging in Madam Malkins. Then he did the same thing on the train and from what he tells me, you were rather peeved at him.”

“I was.”

“Okay?”

“He explained it to me, and I suppose I just needed to make sure that Draco wasn’t using your own ignorance of Pureblood customs against you?”

Hermione was shocked. 

Did Theo think his friend would do such a thing?

Did _she?_

No, Draco was an elitist git but he valued his traditions and upheld them like a kind of armor. There was absolutely no way he would ever put her in a compromising situation. Even when he’d hated her...his words had been cutting and hurtful but he’d never raised his hand nor wand to her.

At least not on purpose.

“_Theodore_...”

Hermione watched her cousin pull a bit into himself at her gentle rebuke and she was quick to reassure him by grabbing his hand over the table and giving it a loving squeeze.

“I adore your willingness to make sure I’m being protected and taken care of, but sooner or later you’re going to have to give Draco a chance to prove he can be a better wizard, right?”

“Blimey,” Theo groused out after a moment, “I’d never thought to see the day you defend Draco of all people.”

“Me neither, but? Here we are. I can’t explain it and I’m fairly certain my logical mind hasn’t quite wrapped around the idea of Draco and I as a forever sort of thing...but I can’t deny the way my magic responds to him and I suppose only time will tell if he is indeed, meant to be mine.”

“And you’d be okay with it?”

Hermione sighed as her brow furrowed in thought. 

Was she alright with it?

Could she be alright with not only Draco...but Lucius and Narcissa as well?

“Would you think less of me if I told you I’m taking this a day at a time?”

“No, I’d probably take you to St. Mungo’s myself if you were suddenly being all dewy-eyed and calling him _Drakie-poo..._”

Hermione snickered as Theo batted his eyes playfully at her, making kissy faces...which caused them both to officially lose it...

Right in the middle of the library.

By the curious and irritated looks they were getting, Hermione figured it was time to leave especially when Madam Pince walked by and pointed at them to ‘_get out’_...which they did, continuing to chuckle on their way into the hallway.

“So?” Hermione breathed in after she finally got her humor under control. “Pureblood courting?”

Theo nodded. “We will start on it tomorrow. Let me owl my Father and see if he still has his copy of “_Pureblood customs, courting and betrothals”_ at the Manor.”

“Okay.” Hermione lifted up on her tippy toes and gave Theo a sweet peck on the cheek, causing him to blush. “Thanks, cousin.”

“You’re welcome, Hermione. Anytime.”

The two went their separate ways, and despite his worry over Dolohov’s disappearance, Theo was happy that his cousin seemed to be able to compartmentalize it for the time being.


	55. What the Fuck!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione learns a thing or three about old Pureblood customs and goes on a rampage.

**No fucking way!!!!**

Hermione glared at the book that Theo had given her a week ago and despite being a natural lover of all things educational, the thought of reading antiquated rubbish on courting rites, made Hermione want to literally incinerate something.

Or someone.

Hmmm...now there’s a thought!

‘_**Pureblood customs, courting and betrothals’**_ might as well be called ‘_Arse backwards: the slow death of feminism.’_

Okay? 

So the book had some interesting points interspersed with utter Pureblood misogyny...but the more learned points?

..._**Young ladies' attire.--Situation in the world determines among ladies those differences which, though otherwise well-marked, are becoming less so every day. Every one knows that whatever be the fortune of a young lady, her dress ought always, in form as well as ornaments, to exhibit less of a recherché appearance, and should be less showy than that of married ladies. Costly cashmeres, very rich furs, and diamonds, as well as many other brilliant ornaments, are to be forbidden a young lady; and those who act in defiance of these rational marks of propriety make us believe that they are possessed of an unrestrained love of luxury, and deprive themselves of the pleasure of receiving those ornaments from the hand of the man of their choice at some future day...**_

So that one wasn’t so bad, but it only got better from there...

_ **...Many of the diseases to which the delicate and youthful of the female sex are peculiarly liable, and by which so many of them are hurried into the grave in the spring-time of their existence, may be traced to impropriety of dress: either in preventing, by its unnatural tightness and inconvenient form, the proper growth of the body, and the natural and free play of its various parts and organs, or to a want of caution in accommodating it to the temperature of the season, and to the various and rapid vicissitudes of the weather...** _

But her absolute favorite had to be....

_ **...whether your pretensions to learning are well founded or not; the simple fact that you aim to appear learned, that you deal much in allusion to the classics, or the various departments of science, with an evident intention to display your familiarity with them, will be more intolerable than absolute ignorance...** _

**WHAT THE FUCK!!!**

She was going to find Theodore Nott and strangle his scrawny neck—then...she was going to hunt down Draco sodding Malfoy and stick his blonde ferrety face into a cauldron of bubotuber pus mixed with live leeches and a smidgeon of Snargaluff stump, just because it would be a fucking hoot to see him get choked by a venomous plant!

_Did people really still believe in this shite?!?_

Her expression was thunderous as she stomped her way down into the Gryffindor common room, book in hand. Harry, who had immediately smiled upon seeing her initially, frowned and then ran out the common room door like a coward...

Apparently brotherly affection only went so far...

Slamming out of the common room, Hermione stomped down towards the Great Hall where dinner was being served. 

She’d spent all Sunday afternoon reading this shite, and by Gods! 

She wanted to hex someone good and proper.

From the fourth to the third landing, the staircase shifted and Hermione found herself with Luna as a companion, her serene expression not faltering a bit in the face of the older witch’s rage.

“Are you alright, Hermione? You seem to be having a horrid case of wrackspurts today.”

Blue eyes flashed as Hermione glared at Luna...who normally would be immune from the wrath of the Gryffindor, but all Hermione could seem to get out was...

“Tell them to leave me alone or I swear on Godric Gryffindor, I’m going to hunt them down and turn them all to _ash!”_

Luna’s eyes widened comically, but she didn’t reply as they finally found themselves at the main level and the younger witch just watched bemusedly as Hermione Prewett headed for the Great Hall.

Upon entering, dark blue eyes scanned the Slytherin table and then narrowed as she spotted her prey. She could feel the stares of the other students and as such, she had no idea that her hair was on fire as she marched over to the Slytherin table with the infernal book in her right hand.

Theo was the first to spot her and his eyes got as wide as saucers. He slapped Draco on the arm, but the ferret just pushed him back as he was nose deep in a book of his own.

Theo’s panicked, “_Draco!”_ got the attention of the remainder of the students and faculty as Hermione was nearly upon them.

“_Theodore Nott!!!” _She growled, slamming the offending item on the table. “What in Merlin’s name were you thinking giving this _rubbish_ to me?”

Theo swallowed while Draco smirked, clearly amused by his witch’s literal fiery personality.

“Hey, love...”

Hermione whipped her finger at him and snarled, “Don’t you call me _love_...you unmitigated, misogynist prat!”

Draco coughed out a guffaw, but put up his hands in the universal sign of peace.

“Now, Hermione, that is why I let Theo explain...”

“Shut it, mate...”

“Just trying to help, Theo.”

“Piss _off_, Draco.”

Hermione’s eyes darted from Draco to Theo as they continued to bicker, causing the rest of the Slytherin’s to snicker at how ridiculous they both were being.

But that didn’t change the fact that she was pissed!

“_Excuse me!”_

The entire Hall went silent...then there was a deep clearing of a voice and when Hermione gazed behind her, Professor Snape was staring at her.

“Ten points from Gryffindor for causing a scene.”

Hermione growled and Snape’s eyebrow quirked.

“Perhaps detention?”

“And perhaps I could set your robes on fire _again_, Professor?”

Snape blanched and his eyes narrowed, as everyone in the Great Hall collectively held their breath.

“Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Nott...please escort Miss Prewett to my office...” when no one was quick to move, Severus snarled out, “**now!”**

Draco and Theo wasted no time standing, while Hermione just glowered but followed them out of the dining hall and down towards the dungeons. 

Hermione’s temper hadn’t quite abated but at least her hair was more normalish.

Draco tried to take her hand, but she hissed at him and pulled away...continuing to outpace both the boys in her stubborn defiance against all things patriarchal.

When they got to Snape’s office, Draco gave the password and the three students sat down and waited for their Professor to arrive...which he did after another fifteen minutes. When he came into the room, he immediately sat down and glared at each of them in turn before he spoke.

“Now please _explain_ what the fuss is about?”

Theo sheepishly set the book he’d given Hermione on Severus desk. He’d grabbed it before leaving the Great Hall and based on the stunned expression on their Professor’s face...Theo was beginning to wonder if he’d been an absolute tosser for giving his cousin that book.

It wasn’t as if he’d read it.

His Father had taught him most traditions verbally as had their House Elves.

_Shite_.

He turned to glare at Draco, who was trying his hardest not to smirk at him.

** _That fucking prick!_ **

Snape stared at the book as if someone had given him a case of Spattergoit...or worse...Dragon Pox.

“Let me get this straight?” Snape pinched the bridge of his rather large nose, “You felt the need to give Miss Prewett _this_ book?”

“Well,” Theo cleared his throat hesitantly, “Draco here suggested it.”

The blonde whipped his head to the side and glared heatedly at his former, _soon to be dead, _classmate.

Severus just lifted a condescending eyebrow that screamed, “_Are you really that thick?”_

“Professor?”

“Yes, Miss Prewett?”

Hermione sighed, clearly put upon at having to endure this ridiculousness. “Draco and I _briefly_, discussed courting and betrothals and like the consummate Slytherin he is? He deferred it to Theo, who probably in his defense...has never even read that horrible book?”

Theo shook his head in apology, and muttered under his breath, “No, but I won’t make that mistake again.”

Hermione smiled, while Draco smirked.

“Miss Prewett, while I understand that you’ve been thrust into a world you know very little on except for the less than stellar behavior of some within my House these past five years, there is much to be learned about proper Pureblood courting,” Hermione scowled as Severus picked up the book in disgust, “but this would _not_ be my first choice, nor do I suppose your Grandmother would ever allow this in her home.”

The three students snickered at the thought of Muriel Prewett following any of the antiquated shite in that book.

Even Severus lips twitched with amusement.

“However, it does not excuse the fact of your complete lack of decorum this evening. Perhaps a few of the more sedate traditions could be implemented?”

Severus waved the book, while Hermione folded her arms over her chest and glared.

Theo and Draco watched the stare off between the two, before Hermione broke eye contact and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Professor. I don’t know what is wrong with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“My magic, I think it’s making my emotions all over the place.”

Draco and Theo’s expression changed immediately from amused to concerned.

“I see. Are you having a harder time controlling your range of responses?”

“Yes, I think that’s it.” Hermione agreed hesitantly.

Snape glanced at Draco, who’s face was furrowed with confusion.

“Does it ever seem settled?”

Hermione blushed and nodded, her eyes darting to Draco’s, who took her hand instantly and Severus was surprised to see the tension within the witch abate immediately upon the touch of his godson.

“Curious.” He drawled. “We should probably start back on your Occlumency training, Miss Prewett—and perhaps it might be a prudent choice to have Draco attend as well. His Occlumency is fairly advanced, and his Legilimency is rudimentary, but perhaps in this instance it might be helpful to see how this bond you two are forming might be benefitted by working together?”

Draco’s eyebrow lifted in surprise. “You think that will help?”

“I do not know, but I think it is worth a try, as I’d rather not have Miss Prewett burn the castle down.”

Hermione glanced at Draco and he smiled, nodded and winked at her.

“Okay.” Her voice was calmer, and even Theo could see the affect Draco had on his cousin.

“As for your other comment, Miss Prewett?”

Theo and Draco grinned widely, while Hermione blushed deeply.

“Well..._Uhm_...”

“Uhm, indeed. Do I take it to mean that it was you who set my robes on fire during the Quidditch match back in your first year?”

Hermione’s gaze darted everywhere at once, while the two gits sitting on either side of her were doing a piss poor job of trying to control their mirth.

“_Maybe?”_ She whispered.

There was a heartbeat of silence and when she glanced up, Snape was considering her with an unfathomable expression on his face.

“I thought it was you cursing Harry’s broom.” She rushed to clarify. “I had read all about curses and hexes and you have to maintain eye contact. It just looked as if...”

“I see.”

“Should I apologize?”

“Do you feel it necessary after five years?”

“_Well, when you put it that way...”_

“Perhaps detention next Saturday might be in order. Two hours, my office after dinner.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Now get out and don’t let me see you behaving in such a manner again, Miss Prewett. I’m afraid as a Professor, I can’t condone the setting of students on fire in a fit of emotion, even if I would otherwise _applaud_ the opportunity.”

Hermione huffed, while Theo and Draco just snickered.

Severus watched the three students go, and heaved a sigh of complete exasperation.

He really _despised_ being a Professor sometimes...


	56. Courting 2.0

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets another lesson in Pureblood courting.

Hermione had decided to write to her Grandmother after the whole debacle with Theo, Draco and the ridiculous book on Pureblood courtship nonsense. When Muriel had written her back a couple days later, there had been a small book enclosed, and this one was a bit more modern in terms of how exactly a courtship was to proceed.

The standard _Letter of Intent _was the first thing of note...

_ **A wizard who seeks to openly court a witch, must in all good conscious; seek out the approval of his chosen’s Paterfamilias to gain their unwavering support and guidance. The verbiage of the missive should be preceded by increased formal relations, an invitation to better acquaint unity between the wizard’s Family and that of his chosen one, as well as the customary token of good will.** _

Hermione had no idea what the ‘_token of good will’ _as such, entailed—but she was fairly certain she’d be learning about that soon enough. She continued to read on...

_ **Once an open familial dialogue has been established, and his suit given appropriate standing; a wizard should take this opportunity to show his felicity and adoration through simple gestures designed to prove his singular devotion. Outings, in both Public and Private, should not only be met to seek knowledge and compatibility, but should be done so with all due respect to a witch’s chastity and virtue. A wizard should never egregiously seek to put his witch’s affections so baselessly on display to garner unwitting distress upon his intended’s station.** _

So that explained the whole Adrian confrontation back before sixth year started.

_ **A wizard’s sole purpose in proper courtship is to constantly reassure his chosen one, that his present and future regard is unwavering and absolute. Consideration should always be paramount with the proposition in mind that a witch is to be treated with all due courtesy and civility. When an appropriate time has past, a wizard should solidify his intent by the bestowing of the Gift of Fidelity. Such acceptable gifts, take well into account the witch’s preference, tastes and demeanor and should never seek to cement ownership; but only be representative of the truest devoir, respect and affection.** _

Gift of Fidelity?

  
That was interesting.

_ **Once an offering of Fidelity has been given and received willingly, a wizard may feel centered in his pursuit that his chosen witch has accepted his ability to care and protect. A Gift of Fidelity is the truest sign of pledging one’s troth, and should only be given and received upon the shared belief of the inevitable outcome leading to an unsurpassable lifelong bonding.** _

Well, that was something she’d have to wrap her mind around. 

If she accepted a gift from Draco, that would indicate that she was his and he was hers?

It seemed archaic, but oddly sweet too.

And not for the first time, that little voice in the back of her head wondered if Draco had manipulated this whole scenario so that she wouldn’t be as put off and angry about some of these more archaic traditions after reading that God awful book that Theo had given her.

It would be the inherently Slytherin thing to do, and Draco was—if nothing else...a _true_ snake.

There had been other parts of the book she’d found equally off-putting in such a way that her overt feminist ideology was having a hard time coming to terms with it all. She had always been cursorily aware of some of the Pureblood traditions like the Family Tree, the Sacred 28...but even so, there was still so much she didn’t know.

Her Grandmother didn’t seem to be pushing any kind of agenda either, beyond a few of the more notable issues, like House Elves...but for the most part, Muriel had allowed her the time and space to figure things out for herself.

She was both grateful and frustrated that there was so much that was expected of her, due to being a Prewett.

Walking down towards the Library, Hermione had to wonder just how stringent Draco was when it came to some of these customs.

The one custom about doing charitable work in lieu of an actual job was something that Hermione found offensive—but not because she didn’t believe that charitable work would be a good practice or use of her time, energy and resources. 

No?

It was because she felt offended that it was just arbitrarily assumed that a woman couldn’t have both a career and do charity work.

She had always been rather gifted at multi-tasking.

She eventually found the one person she was looking for in his usual spot, and sat down across from him with a determined look on her face.

It was a few moments later, that an amused grey gaze lifted to lock with hers.

“What can I do for you?” Draco’s voice drawled lowly, his head tilted questioningly at her.

Hermione placed the book her Grandmother had sent on the table between them, unsurprised when Draco didn’t react at all.

“And?”

“You know, that was a rather sneaky trick to pull on poor Theodore,” Hermione began as she kept eye contact, calculating every mannerism of the wizard across from her. But to his credit, his Occlumency gave nothing away. “I just don’t understand how in Godric’s name you knew that the book he gave to me wasn’t going to be this particular one?”

She tapped the cover of the offending item with her index finger, while Draco just sat back and folded his arms over his chest—his expression completely devoid of emotion.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, love.”

“Of course you don’t, _prat_.”

Their stare off lasted several more minutes before Draco sighed heavily, as he grabbed the book his witch had brought and opened it...perusing through the first few pages with a slight lifted smirk hovering over his face.

He then set it down and slid it back towards her, stating clearly, “I will confirm nothing.”

Taking the book and setting it aside, Hermione gripped Draco’s hand in hers...watching his eyes widen slightly and his expression morph into something more wary.

“Don’t play games with me, Draco,” her voice was part irritated and part hurt. “Granted, I know I’m not the easiest person to perhaps have had this conversation with...”

“That’s an _understatement_.” His interrupting mumble in defense and flinched when his witch’s eyes narrowed in warning at him wasn’t wholly unexpected either.

“But...if we are going to have any hopes of a _real_ relationship, you need to help me understand what is expected and not try and manipulate me into doing what you want by pissing me off first.”

Draco sighed, as he considered Hermione’s words. 

He _had_ purposefully set Theo up, not because he’d wanted to make Hermione upset, but because he **KNEW** she would have been regardless of whatever information had come her way. 

At least with Theo, Draco felt Theo would be relatively safe from her wrath.

He, on the other hand?

“Let me ask you something?”

“Okay?”

“If I had given you that book initially, or had discussed some of the more archaic practices in terms of courting? What assumptions would you immediately jumped to?”

Hermione went to open her mouth to give defense, but caught herself first.

The truth was, she wasn’t wholly certain how she would’ve taken any of this information had it come from Draco. Their past wasn’t stellar, and he’d often made fun of her lack of knowledge when it came to magical customs. So, it was probably reasonable of him to assume that she’d have reacted negatively. 

At least before thinking it through with the logical part of her brain.

Draco could see the moment Hermione realized he’d made a valid point. Her shoulders sagged, and her expression fell sheepishly.

She couldn’t even make eye contact with him.

“I _knew_ the exact book Theo’s Father would’ve sent, because the Nott family hasn’t had a female born into it for centuries. The Malfoy Family too. My Mother has a copy of _that_ book, but I’d imagine Theo’s mother, since she died when Theo was young...”

“Ah,” Hermione nodded in understanding. “That still doesn’t make me feel any better, Draco.”

He nodded. “I didn’t think it would, but I didn’t know how else to get my point across in a way you’d understand it without you thinking I was taunting your lack of Pureblood upbringing.”

“Which you assumed...”

“And I would’ve been _right_.” He interrupted with a pointed look.

Hermione turned her head away as she bit her lip and swallowed uncomfortably.

_Git_.

“Fine...” she lamented, “but how are we going to be able to talk about this stuff without assuming the worst of each other?”

“I think the question _is? _How are you not going to assume the worst about me?”

“Draco...”

He shook his head as he squeezed her hand. “I’m not saying you don’t have a right to think and feel the way you do. I’ve apologized it’s true, but trust doesn’t just bloom in the absence of a shared positive history, Hermione? I want to _earn_ that with you, and you need to know here—that now that I’ve gotten your attention? That I will _never knowingly _make you feel lesser because you didn’t grow up in this world. I know that sounds five years too little too late, but I can’t undo our past. I can only vow to do better and treat you how I should’ve done, regardless of your heritage.”

“But we’d never be here now together, if it wasn’t for that heritage.”

Draco couldn’t help but feel awful for how fore-lorn Hermione looked in that moment.

“Probably,” he wasn’t going to lie, “but I can’t tell you how glad I am that we have this chance. You have to know that I _want_ this and I’m willing to do whatever you need me to do to make this work. I don’t expect a subservient witch...you’d turn me to ash if I did.”

Her slight giggle and nod was all the confirmation he needed to know he was right in his assumption.

“You’re too fierce, independent and stubborn to be anything but the remarkable witch you are, love. Whatever you want for your future? I’ll support it. Fully—no questions asked.”

“Really?”

Hermione’s expression was hopeful, causing Draco to chuckle at how earnest she looked in that moment.

“Yes, really.”

There was a bit of silence before she inquired, “Did you already send a _Letter of Intent_ to my Grandmother?”

Draco shook his head in the negative. “No, I was waiting for you to decide that you wanted me to.”

“Oh?”

“Yes.”

“_Yes_.” She replied immediately, with a soft smile and then giggled when Draco’s face registered her acquiescence.

Then a self-satisfied smirk broke out over his face.

“Then I probably should get on that post-haste, don’t you think?”

Hermione shrugged, “Well, if you need to.”

“Minx.” Draco’s voice was playful as he removed his hand from her grip, stood up, and then packed his books away. 

She watched him bemused, before he came over and pulled out her chair, leading her into his side as they walked out of the library together.

“Where are we going?”

“I’m going to take you to Slytherin, put my supplies away and write a letter to your Grandmother and my parents.”

“And I need to be there for this?”

“What?” Draco snarked, “You’re really going to play at the fact that you’re just going to be okay with me sending something that concerns you, and not want to read it before I send it?” He scoffed, and pulled her closer into his side, leaning down and whispering into her ear, “Do you think I have a death wish, Princess?”

Blue eyes stared up into grey ones as they continued to walk towards the dungeons together. When they finally got the the entrance to Slytherin, Draco grinned.

“Want to come inside?”

Hermione eyes widened comically. “You’re serious?”

“Deadly.” He replied. “Where’s that Gryffindor bravery, Princess?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, before she bit out, “Open the door, snake.”

“With pleasure, love.”

Murmuring the password, Hermione watched stunned as the once blank wall now showed the entrances to the Slytherin common room. 

As it opened, Draco made sure his witch was firmly at his side.

He was rather looking forward to the message this was going send.


	57. Intentions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Hermione finds herself in the snake pit, Draco makes his intentions clear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all my lovely readers I just want to give a big shout out! I hope you’re all well, safe and taking care. I’m at home for the next two weeks and between my graduate studies I am hoping to get a few more chapters written! Hugs and Prayers to you all!

Whatever Hermione had been expecting when she entered the Slytherin Common Room, especially after Harry and Ron’s previous clandestine visit back during their second year, the starkness of it was far more imposing than had been explained.

It was quite austere and had an old world elegance that was difficult to define.

Plus it was dark.

Draco led her inside, and the main room wasn’t quite filled to capacity, but there were several groups of students milling about in different areas. Hermione glanced around wide-eyed as she took in the groups that were assembled.

“You alright?” Draco whispered into her ear, and she nodded because really? 

What could she say?

In all her years at Hogwarts this was the _very last place _in the castle she’d thought she would be welcome in.

Then they were spotted by Blaise and Theo.

“Well, well, _well_...” Blaise purred with a grin, effectively halting all discussion as everyone turned to where he was looking at.

_Bloody tosser!_

“I didn’t know we were allowing lions into the snake den, mate?”

Theo stood up and smiled widely, coming over immediately.

“Hey, cousin,” his voice was playful, “did you lose a bet?”

“Nice, Theodore.” Draco drawled with a smirk. “But no, there was no bet involved.”

“Then _why_ is she here?” Pansy bit out from across the room, and Hermione’s gaze narrowed as she noticed the pug-faced witch sitting with her usual suspects.

“Piss off, Pansy.” Theo grumbled in disgust. “No one is interested in your petty posturing.”

“Oh, I’m sorry?” Pansy snarled, “Was I _required_ to be pleasant today? I didn’t get the memo.”

There were a few chuckles, but one glare from Draco had them all shutting up instantly.

“We were just on the way to my room to drop off my school bag. I need to get a letter written off immediately.” Draco eyed Theo with a heavy gaze, and Theo’s eyes widened at the unspoken meaning.

“Really?” He whispered, reaching for his cousin’s hand and getting her attention.

Hermione sighed and nodded. “Apparently he thinks I’m going to fry his arse if I don’t read the blasted thing before he sends it to my Grandmother.”

The room went deathly quiet before Pansy shrieked out, “You’ve got to be _fucking kidding me?!”_

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Shut it, Parkinson!” Her voice carried over the room and she felt Draco’s body shaking with mirth next to hers. “You know, I’m getting quite tired of your _petty_ jealousy.” She moved slightly out of Draco’s embrace as she eyed the other witch like prey. “You didn’t honestly think that Draco was going to choose you? _Did you?”_

Pansy just stared at her gobsmacked, her face turning an interesting shade of red.

“Oh you _did_, didn’t you?” Hermione face morphed into a mock pout as she continued mockingly, “_That’s so sweet.”_

There were a few more coughs and a couple loud guffaws, although Hermione couldn’t see where they were coming from.

“And delusional.” Daphne piped up from behind a large ficus plant with a grin.

“I think that must be her middle name, yes?” Hermione grinned at the blonde witch, who smiled right back at her.

“It’s one of them.” Daphne moved forward and smiled in welcome. “I don’t believe we’ve ever really been properly introduced. Daphne Greengrass, Slytherin.”

“More like blood traitor.” Pansy griped, causing the blonde witch to roll her eyes in disdain.

“Ignore, Parkinson. We all do our best, for the most part. Her voice is like Professor Binns mated with a hyena, cross bred with a feral cat.”

Hermione lost it as she threw her head back in raucous laughter—causing Draco, Theo and Blaise to follow suit.

As well as most of Slytherin House, too.

Apparently, Pansy Parkinson wasn’t well liked within her own house.

_Shocker!_

“Laugh it up, Prewett, while you can? But just know, I’ll be the one laughing in the end.”

Pansy stood up and left the room with her smallish entourage, causing Theo to give Draco a confused look.

What in the ever-loving fuck did Pansy mean by that?

“She really is a sore loser, isn’t she?” Hermione shook her head and chuckled.

“Always has been.” Daphne agreed, grabbing Hermione’s arm and pulling her further into the common room as she glanced back over her shoulder at Draco, Theo and Blaise.

“Go attend to your do diligence, Draco.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” Draco quirked an eyebrow as he headed immediately for his dorm room, figuring Hermione would be safe with her cousin and his friends.

As he set his book bag down, he pulled out his best parchment, quill, ink and his Malfoy crest stamp as he got started on the first letter to his parents.

_ **Dear Mum and Dad,** _

_ **I’m writing this in hopes that you both are well. I have finally managed to somehow convince Hermione to allow me to offer for her hand to Lady Prewett. So this letter is to inform you both that this is my intention. I haven’t discussed the specifics of the betrothal contract with Hermione, and if it’s alright I would prefer to do so before you open negotiations with Lady Prewett. Technically, I suppose we’ll need to put down something, but I’m not sure what the protocol is for this. Our situation is rather unprecedented as you both know.** _

_ **As each day passes and we spend quality time together, I’m more and more convinced that I am her chosen mate. I believe she knows it too—deep down. She’s stubborn, willful and utterly amazing.** _

_ **If you haven’t guessed by now, I’m rather smitten.** _

_ **If there might be a way you can see fit help me with that request, Mum...I’d be ever so grateful.** _

_ **Yours affectionately,** _

_ **Draco** _

Draco set that letter aside and then pulled out a fresh piece of parchment. As he started to put the quill to words...he felt his heart racing a bit with excitement and a tinge of fear.

_This was it._

Once this letter was sent, he’d for all intents be engaged by the end of the year. He knew that Hermione would want to do a Mastery, and truth was he did too...but it didn’t change the sentiment of the fact that they’d be together.

He was fairly chuffed by the fact.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath...he locked down his Occlumency shields and set to task writing his thoughts down.

_ **Dearest Lady Prewett,** _

_ **I hope this letter finds you well and in good spirits. I suppose I don’t need to explain the reasoning for this correspondence other than tradition dictates I make my sentiments known where your Granddaughter is concerned.** _

_ **I know you’ve likely heard stories of how I was in my younger years. How I teased and was rather unkind to Hermione due to her perceived heritage at that time. You may think I’m not an ideal choice for your Granddaughter, and I don’t think I’d be remiss in agreeing with that sentiment. The Draco Malfoy of a year ago would’ve never been a worthy suitor for Hermione’s hand.** _

_ **Now that my family is free of the shackles that have weighed heavy upon it for so long, I feel for the first time in my life that I can breathe the fresh air and take in the world around me with a vision unfettered by expectation. But the truth is such that when I look at my present and future, all I see is Hermione. It is with this regard that I formally ask for your permission to enter into a formal courtship with your Granddaughter.** _

_ **The fact that she allowed this concession will baffle me until the day I leave this life.** _

_ **You have my solemn vow as a Malfoy that I will treat her with all the deference and courtesy, care and support that she deserves as your Heir and as my future betrothed. (If she doesn’t turn me into embers first)...** _

_ **I can do no more than what honor dictates except follow my heart.** _

_ **It is hers, and will only ever be hers.** _

_ **I await your reply with the upmost felicity and expectation.** _

_ **Your humble servant,** _

_ **Draco Lucius Malfoy** _

Draco read, and re-read the letters several times each before nodding to himself, pleased with the final result. He then set them in his desk drawer and warded it shut temporarily, before heading back into the common room to get his witch.

When he entered—Hermione was sitting with Blaise, Daphne and Theo but also with Crabbe, Goyle and Tracey Davis.

“Hey.” He moved towards Hermione, who was currently sitting in between Theo and Daphne.

“Hi.” Her smile was part relieved and part happy to see him.

“I came to borrow you for a moment.”

“Okay.”

She allowed Draco to pull her up, but when Theo stood to follow, Hermione shook her head in the negative.

“Theodore, I’ll be fine.”

There were a few chuckles, but Theo didn’t look too happy.

“You’re being a bit over-bearing, Theo.” Daphne piped in with a grin. “Hermione’s a big girl, and if I’m understanding things correctly, after tomorrow, next day at the latest? Draco is going to be her intended.”

Draco smirked, but didn’t deny it as he led Hermione to his dorm room—blatantly ignoring the interested set of eyes following their every move.

Once he got her inside, he locked and warded the room.

He watched amused, as Hermione gazed with interest around his space...seemingly impressed with what she was seeing.

“You have your own room?”

Draco nodded. “First through fifth year’s bunk together but starting sixth year, each student gets their own room.”

“Nice.”

And it was. 

The room was decorated in the usual Slytherin colors, but with a tinge more black as was his preference. Everything had its place and it was neat and organized. As she walked over to the bookshelf, her eyes widened at some of the selection Draco had available—her expression registering awe with a bit of envy.

She heard Draco chuckling behind her, and she couldn’t help the blush that stole over her cheeks.

“So I’m a bookworm? Sue me?”

“Nah, but I would like you to read these letters so I can get them sent off this evening.”

“Okay,” Hermione felt suddenly shy, “if you’re certain?”

Draco moved over and grabbed her hand gently, leading her to the small loveseat he had by a window that looked out directly into the Black Lake.

“I am.” His words were resolved, as he handed her the first letter—the one he’d written to his parents. He watched with bated breath as Hermione opened the letter and read through his words, her eyes widening as she got towards the end.

When she looked back up at him, Draco could tell she was having a hard time controlling her emotions. He could see her throat moving as if she was desperately trying to swallow back her feelings.

After a minute she nodded, so he took that as permission and handed her the second missive. Watching closely as she read through the letter to her Grandmother...

Her first response appeared to be shocked disbelief...

Then he swore she read it a second time...as her eyes flew over the page again...

And this time her blue eyes started to tear up slightly...

The third time her gaze flew over the parchment, before her blue eyes lifted and met his—and he held back a gasp...as she launched herself at him and snogged him passionately.

His answering surprised groan couldn’t be helped.

Then somehow Hermione was straddling him, her hands pulling his head back as she took control of the kiss and all he could do was grab onto her hips and hold on for dear life.

_But fuck he wasn’t complaining at all._

She tasted like fire, sunshine and sweetness all wrapped up in a perfect package.

After a bit, she broke the kiss...her eyes darkened with lust as she stared down into his own.

“Did you _mean_ it?”

He just nodded dumbly, apparently too stunned to get any words out.

Her smile was blinding and he couldn’t help but respond in kind as they just gazed at each other before a knock sounded on his door.

With an unhappy groan, he lifted Hermione off his body and placed her gently next to him as he breathed heavily through his nose, desperately trying to get other parts of his body to calm too.

Then the knock sounded again.

“Theo?” She whispered and Draco nodded.

“It’s likely.” He groaned slightly as he stood and then smirked at how disheveled Hermione looked, and by her shite-eating grin, he probably didn’t look much better.

Waving her hand, Draco felt her magic settle over him and he winked.

“Do I look presentable after you tackled me?”

Hermione’s blush was rather fetching as she quipped back, “I didn’t hear you complaining.”

Draco pulled her into his side and kissed her temple sweetly. “I _wasn’t_.”

“Good to know.”

He just grinned as he grabbed the two letters, placed them into their respective envelopes—sealed and shrunk them for transport.

“Want to go to the owlry with me?”

“I suppose that might be a more appropriate use of our time?”

“Possibly, but definitely not as fun.”

Hermione shook her head, as she grabbed his hand and led them both out of his dorm room and all Draco could think of, was—how in the fuck was he going to be able to wait until they were formally betrothed, to make Hermione his in every way!

Patience had never been his strong suit after all.


	58. Putting it in the Past

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco receives his response from Muriel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you’re all doing well out there! Hugs to you all...stay safe and healthy!

It wasn’t until the day after next, before Draco received a response from his parents in regards to the letter he’d sent them. His Mother had been the one to write on behalf of his father and herself, and as he’d expected...they were thrilled with the news.

Then Lady Prewett’s owl had arrived the following morning and had unceremoniously dumped her reply right in front of him, hooted angrily and flew away.

Draco swallowed as he reached for the missive, his eyes glancing up briefly to see Hermione’s face pale slightly as he tried his very best to remain calm—giving her a wink which had her rolling her eyes at him.

He could feel the stares coming from pretty much everyone in the Great Hall. 

Apparently Pansy and her _mouth_, had decided to shout her displeasure to anyone who’d pay her a lick of attention over the last two days, and Draco was at the breaking point.

He _really wanted to hex her._

It was only his Pureblood upbringing that was causing him from refraining doing so.

Hermione had done her level best to ignore Pansy—as well as Therese Rowle, Olivia Shardlow and Millicent Bulstrode. All four witches seemed to be in cahoots with each other and Draco had to wonder what in Salazar’s name, he’d ever seen in either Pansy or Therese. 

Both witches were vindictive vipers on a good day.

Grabbing the letter, Draco placed it into his book bag, finished his breakfast and headed off to class. As much as he was curious about Lady Prewett’s response, he wasn’t stupid enough to read it in front of a bunch of gawpers who didn’t have anything better to do than meddle in his affairs.

He eventually found himself in Charms, sitting next to Theo and Blaise who were both giving him the stink eye.

“Aren’t you going to read the letter?” Theo whispered, once Flitwick had finally finished lecturing and left them to work on their assignment.

“Yes, eventually.”

“Aren’t you curious?” Blaise murmured after a few moments of silence, causing Draco to quell his mate’s stupidity with a caustic glare.

More silence hovered over their group until Flitwick excused them, and when Draco walked out of the classroom, he immediately noticed Hermione standing at the end of the corridor waiting for him.

As he sauntered towards her, he couldn’t help but admire the way in which her hair was pulled back...showing off her long slender neck and the cute diamond stud earrings she had taken to wearing after Christmas hols. Her long, perfectly shaped legs were covered with tights, and her fitted flared skirt was sitting just above her knee while her Gryffindor jumper and tie completed her ensemble.

She always looked beautiful, but Draco had noticed that her school robes this year had fit her far better than in previous years.

Hermione had always had the propensity to buy her robes a bit too large, but then she wore those Muggle trousers that hugged her arse like...

Shaking his head away of those unhelpful thoughts, Draco moved next to his witch and smirked.

“Hey, love? What are you doing here?”

She shrugged and bit her lip as her eyes focused on his book bag and Draco sighed.

“I haven’t opened it yet.”

“Oh!” She whispered, surprised as her blue eyes traced his with a hint of worry. “Okay.”

Sighing, Draco grabbed her hand and walked down the corridor looking around—trying his best to ignore the interested stares coming from those in the hallway. He did eventually find an empty classroom, and led Hermione inside before he locked and warded the room against nosy intruders.

Then he saw his witch wave her hand and felt her magic as she placed a few more wards of her own.

He just chuckled and shook his head as he set his book bag down on the closest desk and pulled the letter from its hiding place, fiddling with it for a moment as his eyes locked once again with the worried stare of his little vixen.

“Do you want to do the honors?” He quipped, but Hermione just shook her head.

“No, you can do it but we don’t have much time before next class starts.”

“Fine.._fine_...” he mumbled as he used his wand to check for curses, hexes and other nefarious spells.

He heard Hermione giggling and he blushed slightly at her amused grin.

“You really think my Grandmother would...”

“_Yes_.” He blurted out and winced apologetically as Hermione’s eyes widened comically—so he rushed to clarify. “Muriel Prewett has been known to be rather unforgiving and vindictive when properly motivated.”

Hermione sat down and noticeably gulped. “Really?” Her voice was pitched slightly higher, and Draco nodded.

“Yes.”

“Oh...”

“Yes, _oh_...”

“So the letter?”

“Is clean.”

“Well that’s good, right?”

Draco didn’t reply, as he didn’t want to give any false sense of security at this exact moment.

Taking a fortifying breath, he opened the flap of parchment and started to read...

_ **Dear Scion Malfoy,** _

_ **I have received your declaration of intent in regards to my Great-Granddaughter. Whilst I wasn’t surprised by the missive, the tone and tenor was rather unexpected, although not unwelcome.** _

_ **I have spent the past several years hearing of your more notable exploits from my family; my Great-Niece in particular. Reports of your propensity for unkindness, especially towards those you viewed as coming from inferior birth; I found especially troubling. Not because I don’t agree to an extent that Muggles can pose a risk to our society, but it was the way in which you felt the need to assert your status amongst your peers that I found severely lacking.** _

_ **In tone and in subtlety.** _

_ **Especially for one of your noble birthright.** _

_ **Now you wish to court my Granddaughter. A witch whom, if I’m not mistaken...you’ve been rather brutish to on more than one occasion.** _

_ **I feel as if I’d be remiss in my duty as her Grandmother not to bring this to your attention.** _

_ **Know this Draco, if my Fabian were alive today? He would not have given his blessing.** _

_ **At least not before maiming you good and proper.** _

_ **Then obliviating you afterwards.** _

_ **And Marlene? I will only say that her propensity for vindictiveness when wronged was only second to your Dear Departed Aunt.** _

_ **I’m sure you know the one I mean.** _

_ **Now that I’ve said my peace, I also know that you have made efforts to undo your past misdeeds and have asked for—if not absolution...a level of forgiveness from my Hermione. She has given this to you, because that is the kind of person she is.** _

_ **Loving and forgiving.** _

_ **I don’t think I need to remind you what will happen if you cross her, yes?** _

_ **Her Father and Mother purposefully, wanted Hermione’s magic to choose her best match and for this reason alone I am giving my blessing. Not because I feel you deserve her.** _

_ **You don’t.** _

_ **But because for some reason only the fates understand; you and she are meant to join our families together.** _

_ **I would expect you to honor the words, sentiment and intent behind your letter. As a Malfoy, I would hope you are fully cognizant of what that means.** _

_ **Please advise your Father that I will expect to hear from him soon in this regard.** _

_ **Regards,** _

_ **Lady Muriel Prewett** _

Draco’s hands were shaking as he sat down heavily on the nearest chair, almost missing it entirely and had to catch himself suddenly, as the dread in his stomach sat there like a stone—after he’d finished the letter.

He didn’t even notice Hermione approaching him until she took it from his trembling fingers and he glanced up as he noticed her blue eyes read through the words, her brow furrowing heavily as she continued to bite her lip in consternation.

When she was done, she sighed in resignation and then proceeded to plop herself down on his lap and wrap her arms around his neck...the letter now dangling behind his head in her left hand.

Draco could barely make eye contact with her—the shame in his gut was a _living, breathing presence._

“I feel as if I should apologize.” Hermione whispered, and Draco shook his head as he readjusted her a bit more firmly on his lap.

“No, I don’t think that’s the proper response at all, love.”

There was another moment of uncomfortable silence until Draco cleared his throat.

And when he spoke—his words were heavy with regret.

“I’ve often wondered how in Salazar’s name, I ever got so lucky to be your chosen mate. Sometimes, I sit in my bed at night and replay snippets of our past on an endless loop.”

“And?” She asked after Draco paused, seemingly having a difficult time getting his thoughts into words.

“And...” he gazed up and quirked his lips down, “I don’t know if I can expect forgiveness when I can’t really forgive myself.”

“You know I’ve forgiven you, Draco.”

He nodded stiffly. “So you’ve said, and I suppose only time will continue to show you I’m a changed wizard.”

“You haven’t changed a lot about yourself, and I know some of your prejudices are still there inside you. It’s hard to rethink things you’ve been taught as truth your whole life.”

He hummed in agreement. “True, but you can change how you _act_ upon those feelings. Prejudice is inherent in all of us. The way Slytherins are viewed here at school is a testament to that.”

Hermione bristled as she glared down at him, but he just held her gaze with his own.

“I’m not justifying how many of my classmates, including myself have behaved over the years...but you have to admit that the prejudice runs _both_ ways. Merlin, Hermione! Your friend Weasley told Potter on the train first year, before he’d ever met a Slytherin—that we were all inherently evil. If that’s not prejudice, than I’m unsure what is. Potter refused to shake my hand because he’d believed Weasley’s words.”

“And you didn’t help it by insulting Ron either, Draco.”

Another belabored sigh. “Fine, that’s fair I suppose—but can you at least admit I have a valid point?”

Hermione gazed into Draco’s stormy grey eyes and saw the truth of his words reflected back at her. 

She wasn’t ignorant.

The prejudice here at Hogwarts wasn’t completely one-sided.

“Yes, I will admit it.”

“Maturity is a hard life lesson, love, especially when you realize what a little shite you were.”

Hermione giggled. “You definitely were that.”

Draco lifted his hand behind him and retook the letter from Hermione’s grip and grimaced as he lifted his witch off his lap and placed the letter back into the envelope. He was about to put it back into his bag, when he felt it fly out of his hand and watched in shock as it hovered between them in the empty classroom.

Before he could ask what she was doing, the letter burst into flames.

He watched in horror as the ashes fell like black snowflakes onto the ground and then with a wave of her hand, they were gone.

“_What?!”_

Hermione moved back into his embrace and smirked, as she lifted herself up and placed a gentle kiss on his lips—which he deepened instantly.

They remained like that for a few moments, before she pulled away with a soft smile.

“No more dredging up our past, Draco. If we are going to have a future together, we have to put the past where it belongs. We can remember it, _learn from it even. _But I can’t see the wisdom of beating ourselves blue with it. We can’t change it, right?”

He just nodded dumbly, wondering how in the fuck he’d ever done anything in his life to deserve such selfless consideration from anyone.

Let alone Hermione.

She was far, far too good for him.

He allowed her to take his hand as she silently unwarded the room with a casual wave of her wrist and as they moved out into the corridor together, they both chuckled as they realized they were both late for their next period.

Thankfully they had it together.

“Do you think Severus will give us detention?”

Draco grinned. “I think it’s a fairly safe assumption.”

And sure enough, Draco was right.


	59. Mind Magic’s

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape gives Draco and Hermione detention.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short, but important chapter.

Hermione was sitting across from Draco in Professor Snape’s office, the two of them were serving their detention together...

Well..._sort of..._

When they’d arrived, their Defense Professor had placed two sitting chairs across from each other, on the other side of his desk where he was currently ensconced—grading essays...his red quill scratching furiously over the parchments like they’d offended him personally.

Hermione didn’t know how long she and Draco had stood there, waiting to be addressed but both of them figured it might behoove them to exercise a bit of patience.

When Snape finally did acknowledge them both, his brow was furrowed with irritation.

“_Sit_.” He growled, and they both parked their arses down simultaneously, warily facing each other with trepidation as they didn’t know what to expect.

Severus moved stealthily from around his desk and stood to her left side, as he stared his rather prominent nose down at them.

“For this evening, we will be working on your Occlumency in a different way, Miss Prewett.” When Hermione’s expression registered momentary confusion, Snape just sighed. “Mr. Malfoy will be the one attempting Legilimency on you. He is aware of the basics of the craft, having worked with me since the beginning of last term. Normally, I would recommend you try and block him from your mind, but that is not the purpose of _this_ lesson. I wish for Mr. Malfoy to guide your mind to a specific memory of _his_ choosing.”

“And that will do what?” Hermione asked, intrigued.

“Your magic has been feeling off, except for those times when Mr. Malfoy is able to have direct contact with you, yes?”

Hermione nodded.

“But you can’t be with each other day in and out, correct?”

Again she nodded.

“My theory is such that I suspect as we get closer to Mr. Malfoy’s seventeenth birthday, your powers will continue to express more and more often as your magic senses its mate’s magic reaching full maturity. Therefore, it may become more difficult for you to diffuse these outbursts without some kind of anchor to ground you.”

“I’m confused, Professor...” Hermione began hesitantly, “I do have the ability to speak telepathically into your mind as well as Theo’s. I haven’t attempted to do so with Draco, but how is what you’re proposing any different?”

“Because in those instances you are asserting _your_ mind into others but in this case, _Draco will be your anchor.”_ Severus drolled out with just the right amount of exasperation, his tone suggesting the answer was obvious. “He will be directing your thoughts.”

Hermione bit her lip and nodded, ignoring the smug smirk from her newly minted intended as he was watching her.

“Fine.” She acquiesced reluctantly, before glaring at Draco—who couldn’t even manage to pretend he wasn’t enjoying this.

Snape lifted an eyebrow at the petulant tenor of her voice, but didn’t reply. 

He then deferred his attention to Draco and drawled in his bored manner, “Do you have a memory you wish to seek?”

He nodded immediately, causing Hermione’s eyes to narrow slightly before Draco lifted his wand and made eye contact...saying the word _legilimens_ softly and entering her mind.

Hermione noted almost instantly, the differences in how Draco’s magic flowed into her mind compared with Professor Snape. 

Where Severus did so with an evident design to break down her defenses in an insidious manner, Draco’s technique was completely non-threatening. It was almost like he was an innocent bystander perusing through a photo album...lazily flicking though each page until he got to the one he wanted.

And when he got there, Hermione didn’t realize it until it was too late.

They were back in Professor Slughorn’s class first day of Potions this year and Hermione could see herself at the front of the room, identifying each potion as in slow motion. She felt Draco’s amusement as she got to the final one of Amortentia, her head bent down slightly as she took in a gentle whiff of the pearlescent swirls lifting off the cauldron.

Hermione could see her former self’s eyes glaze over for a moment as she recited the first two smells she’d picked up on from the love potion.

When it got to the third...right before her former self spoke she heard Draco’s voice in her mind.

And the vision stopped like a Muggle photograph, the words ‘_spearmint toothpaste’_ just waiting to fall from her lips.

“_Right here..._” his voice hovered between them as smooth as sin, and Hermione felt her exasperation spike, but hearing Draco chuckling in her mind made her wonder just how badly he’d been wanting to know what it was she’d smelled that day.

“You _fibbed_, Princess.” His easy drawl continued to flow into her mind. “There was a brief pause as if you couldn’t reconcile what it was you were actually smelling. But this time, you’re going to tell me the _truth_.”

Hermione could hear her mental scoff, but Draco’s mind just hovered over her prickly feelings like a warm blanket. She could feel his amusement, but she could also feel other emotions coming to the forefront too. 

There was a cursory academic interest, a light smugness, a needful pleasure, amused indulgence...but the overriding emotions were comfort and safety.

It was as if his mind was letting hers know that it was safe to share the truth with him.

She gazed around the room in her mind and noticed Draco’s former self eyeing her with a keen interest, his breath holding as if he was anticipating her answer with something akin to need.

_Hoping_...

The memory slowly picked up again, and as Hermione’s former self pulled away completely from the cauldron, the words..._green apples._..came tumbling unbidden from her mouth.

Her shock was only mitigated by the happy chuckle of her intended as he pulled from her mind even more gently than he’d entered...

..._leaving her feeling slightly bereft at the loss._

When the moment broke—Hermione’s face went scarlet, but Draco just had a pleased lopsided grin plastered on his face.

Snape’s eyeroll and disgusted shake of his head, let them both know he’d rather not be privy to the particulars of their shared experience.

“I take it was a success?”

“Yes, Professor.” Draco replied, his voice controlled even if his expression wasn’t.

“Good,” Severus droned, “You will need to practice this technique at least twice per week for now and as we get closer to June, I am hopeful you will be able to do this Draco without need of a wand or oral recitation of the spell itself. It should become fairly instinctive.”

“And you think this will help?”

“I believe it will buy the necessary time for you both,” Snape’s voice was even, “as there is very little in the way of information about Sorcery and the binding of an ancillary, I do believe the better your minds are prepared—the easier it will be to cope with the inevitability, when the time arrives.”

Both Hermione and Draco nodded, as it seemed like sound logic.

Neither one realizing at that very moment that they’d end up owing everything to their Defense Professor’s due diligence when that fateful time arrived.


	60. Planning for the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of snogging, and a little bit of plotting.

Hermione was stomping down the hallway, leaving Severus office as Draco sauntered behind her...silently enjoying her flustered self as he watched her arse sashay in those blasted Muggle trousers she favored.

And although she didn’t wear them often anymore...he couldn’t help but notice it when she did.

As did many of his other fellow wizards.

His little vixen and grown into a shapely witch this past summer and her _arse was a thing of beauty._

“Princess?”

Hermione huffed again, hearing his amused, self-satisfied drawl.

She didn’t even need to turn around to know he was smirking smugly at her.

“Get your eyes off my arse, Malfoy!”

“Oh, I’m Malfoy again, am I?”

She whirled around quickly, her eyes ablaze as she lifted her pointer finger at him in warning.

“You just couldn’t ask me? No! Not Draco, Slytherin snake extraordinaire Malfoy!”

His laughter was starting to piss her off.

Sensing his impending doom, Draco grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her into the nearest broom closet and shut the door, not giving her a moment to collect herself before his lips were on hers.

Her immediate response had him happily growling as he pushed her further against the wall and deepened the kiss, his tongue silently demanding permission and receiving it instantaneously.

It was a few moments before he felt her ire abate enough to pull back slightly and soften the kiss into something more languorous, but just as needy. He groaned when her hands gripped into his hair and tugged slightly as he moved his lips from her mouth and traveled down her neck in earnest—her breathy moans doing wonders for his libido, which was already rock hard and ready.

His body fell into the softness of his witch and instinctively, his thigh pushed open Hermione’s legs, holding her aloft as she rubbed brazenly against him, seeking her own measure of relief.

When his lips melded against hers once again with more force, Hermione’s breathy moan of his given name nearly had him coming in trousers right then and there.

“Draco...”

“Hmmm...”

He bit her lower lip and pushed his tongue back into her mouth: playing...cajoling...tempting a more passionate response...

..._which he got._

It was hard to know how much time had passed since he’d pulled her with him inside the closet, but he frankly couldn’t be bothered with such trivial semantics when Hermione’s right hand was currently grabbing his arse as she rocked against his thigh more forcefully.

_Oh fuck..._

With what amounted to a Herculean effort on his part, he pulled away ever so slightly and tried desperately to pull in copious amounts of air in a last ditch bid to get his desire under control.

“Love...we need to _stop_...”

He really fucking hated formal Pureblood courtship etiquette right about now.

“What?”

Sighing in resignation, Draco cupped Hermione’s cheeks and placed a swift kiss on her lips before trying to soothe her.

“We need to get you back to Gryffindor.”

It was a good thing he couldn’t make out her expression, because he’d probably just say fuck it and Theo would kill him.

Potter too.

_Fuck!_

“Did I do something wrong?”

Draco groaned and tipped his head back, silently counting to ten and pleading for the fates to give him strength.

“No, my love, you are perfect. However, as much as I’d like to stay here with you? I’m fairly certain if I don’t get you back to your dorm before curfew—Potter and Theo will hex first and ask questions later.”

There was a beat of silence, before he felt Hermione’s body shaking within his embrace.

“Are you _laughing?”_ He asked incredulously.

Her giggles lifted in volume and Draco rolled his eyes, as he felt his trademark smirk settle into place.

“Well, it is ridiculous.” She sniffed with irony, “Who’d have thought that Draco Malfoy and Hermione Prewett would be in a broom closet _snogging_.”

Now that comment did cause Draco to chuckle.

“A year ago, if we’d been caught together?” He shivered at the thought.

Hermione sobered and he felt her body deflate at the words, so he decided it might be a good time for a confession of sorts.

“Did you know, fourth year that I tried to warn Krum off from you?”

He could feel her shock, and he wished he could see her expression a bit better in the darkness.

“Why?”

“Well, if you’d have asked me prior to this year? I would’ve given you some pumped up answer that would’ve been more about protecting my dubious reputation than admitting the truth.”

“Which was?”

Draco sighed and pulled her lips to his for another swift kiss before he admitted, “I was jealous.”

“Really?” Her voice cracked, causing Draco to snort.

“Yes, _really_.” He pulled out his wand and cast several spells to readjust them to rights, before gazing down into blue eyes that were staring up at him in wonder as his lumos, lit the small space between them. “I was a git. We both know this, but I wasn’t a blind git, despite what you might have thought. Everyone at the Yule Ball noticed you. I spent the entire night watching you, much to Pansy’s displeasure. I tried to warn Krum off and then you were chosen to be his treasure. I know much of what I said that year was very unkind...but I didn’t know what to do at that point. I’d noticed you, and didn’t know what to do with it, so I did what any teenaged boy does when confronted with the one thing he wants but can’t have.”

“You acted like a bully.”

“Got it in one.”

“Draco...”

He shook his head and shushed her. “Don’t make excuses for my behavior, love...there is none to be made, I’m afraid. However, I don’t intend to muck this up either. The problem is you’re _too tempting,_ especially when you wear these bloody Muggle trousers. Do you even have any idea how good your arse looks in those things? Every wizard in this infernal place has his eyes glued to your backside when you strut around school wearing those things.”

“I do _not_ strut.”

Draco grinned lecherously. “Yes, you _do_.”

His smile widened at Hermione’s blush.

“You like my arse?”

Draco groaned as he wagged a finger at her. “Playing with Fire...”

Her laughter stopped him. “Nice turn of phrase.”

“I do my best.” He snickered, before setting her down and opening the door...checking the hallway for any signs of life.

“No one is out there.”

His eyebrow lifted with interest. “You can sense that?”

Hermione nodded. “Enough to know where people are.”

Draco watched her for a second as he asked, “Can you just sense people in general, or can you sense specific people?”

There was a pause, as Hermione considered his question...but ultimately she said, “I don’t know if I’ve ever specifically sensed certain people. When Pansy and her cronies attacked me, I could sense they were witches, and I knew what spells they’d cast but I don’t think I knew it was them until I faced them directly.”

Draco nodded thoughtfully. “Maybe that might be something to work on?”

“Maybe.”

He moved them down the corridor and over to the stairs, checking the time. There was fifteen minutes until curfew.

“I don’t have time to walk you back to Gryffindor, and it’s not my night to patrol.”

“It’s okay,” she winked before giving him a kiss goodnight. When she stepped back, Draco watched in awe as flames erupted along her body and in a flash, she was gone.

“Bloody hell!” He whispered in awe.

He’d never get used to the fact that his little minx could apparate within the schools wards.

When he entered Slytherin, the common room was empty save a few of the older students and he strode over to where Theo, Blaise and Daphne were sitting—setting up a few privacy wards.

“Hey, mate,” Blaise quipped with a grin, “How was detention?”

“It was fine.”

“Hermione get back to Gryffindor okay?” Theo inquired and Draco nodded.

“Safe and sound.”

“Good.”

Daphne just shook her head in amusement. “Theodore, you are worse than Harry Potter when it comes to being an overprotective brother.”

Theo blushed but didn’t deny it and they all were smiling at his embarrassment.

“Do you ever wonder what might’ve happened had the Dark Lord fallen sooner?” Theo asked quietly, and the rest of his friends just sat there staring at him in horror.

“Where the _fuck_ did that come from?” Draco blurted.

Theo shrugged. “I just keep thinking about what our lives would’ve looked like had there been no Dark Lord. Hermione would’ve had her parents, and we would’ve grown up together.”

“True,” Blaise interjected, “but sometimes I think things happen the way they’re supposed to. For good or bad, and we can’t second guess it. Hermione’s heritage being revealed has taught me one valuable lesson..”

“Which is?” Daphne asked, intrigued.

“That we can’t judge a book by its cover.” Blaise replied sheepishly. “We all misjudged her based on what we thought she was..._not who she was. _We never gave her a chance to show us whom Hermione Granger was, because we were all so obsessed over her blood status—which turned out to be untrue. So we based our dislike on a false premise. I for one, feel like an idiot.”

The rest of their small group was quiet, thinking seriously about Blaise’s words.

“I think that’s why it’s been so good this year, trying to be more accepting of those outside of our House. I know we can’t change small minds overnight,” Daphne lamented with a heavy sigh, “but at least it gives those like my sister, a chance to be friends with whomever she wishes. She won’t be held to the same ludicrous standards we were, and maybe in time things will change for the better.”

“You truly believe that?” Draco asked wearily

“I want to believe it,” Daphne replied, “isn’t it enough?”

“I think it’s a start.” Theo agreed with a nod.

“You know, Theo,” Draco said after a few moments of silence, “sometimes I wish I could go back and do things differently, and maybe if there had been no Dark Lord, I might’ve had more freedom to do so. But our parents are all still fairly prejudiced in their views, so who knows.”

“But we don’t have to be.” Daphne stated firmly, a hard glint in her eye. “Draco made a good point back at the beginning of the school year. We here in Slytherin House hold a lot of sway within Magical Britain. Draco—you and Theo will inherit your ancestral seats on the Wizengamot when the time comes. I will inherent my family’s. Hermione will have the Prewett seat. The Black seat is vacant, but it might be a good idea to persuade Potter to take it. He’s only a half-blood, but many view him as the Savior of the Wizarding World twice over. Longbottom, Weasley, Shacklebolt, Abbott, MacMillan, Slughorn, Fawley, Ollivander and Shafiq would all be fairly easy to get onside. The Gaunt, Lestrange, and Crouch lines are gone. That only leaves...”

“Avery, Burke, Bulstrode, Carrow, Flint, Parkinson, Rosier, Rowle, Selwyn, Travers and Yaxley.”

“Well—Yaxley, Travers and Avery are in Azkaban. Two of them will die there with no heirs. Avery had a nephew. He starts Hogwarts next year.” Theo’s eyes lit up with the possibilities.

“Parkinson, Bulstrode and Rowle are likely losses.” Daphne moued with distaste. “Selwyn possibly too. The Rosier Heir is in his fourth year? Flint?”

They all shook their head at the thought, except Draco.

“Adrian and Flint are still fairly close. Marcus plays Quidditch, but I don’t think he’d care one way or the other. Besides, once Adrian finishes his Magical Law Apprenticeship, my guess is he’s going to be a gifted solicitor.”

“So that just leaves the Burke family and the Carrows, right?” Theo eyed his Slytherin mates, and they all nodded.

“Flora and Hestia and fairly level-headed, but their Father and Aunt were staunch followers of the Dark Lord.”

“And Burke and Borgin are both heavy purveyors of Dark Artifacts, so it’s unlikely they’ll be easy to persuade.”

“But still,” Daphne sat back with a slightly pleased expression, “That’s only four families against the majority of the Sacred 28?”

Draco nodded. “We would have to play the long game, but I’m thinking by the time we are our parents age?”

“We could have control of the Wizengamot.” Theo grinned.

“It’s an intriguing idea.” Draco agreed, with a predatory gleam in his eye. “Just one thought though?”

“And that is?” Blaise queried flippantly.

“Who would be our erstwhile Minister for Magic?”

Three heads turned simultaneously towards the fourth, and Zabini grinned as he bowed his head in silent agreement.

It seemed as if they had a tentative plan.


	61. Clarification

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione goes to Daphne for an explanation.

It was just Hermione’s luck that Valentine’s Day fell on a Hogsmeade weekend.

It was also the same weekend as the Gryffindor Quidditch Match against Ravenclaw.

In the past, she’d never been a fan of the brutal sport, but now her brother and her intended were on a crash course literally—to play each other in the Quidditch Final sometime later in the spring.

Draco being whom he was? Was training his team relentlessly, while Harry seemed to be working just as hard—but with far less intensity.

_Intense_...

There was the cognizant word of her life the past month.

_Everything with Draco was intense..._

He was as much of a perfectionist as she ever was, but he also found time to pull her into random broom closets for a bit of a snog here and there. He said it was because he’d often see her getting overworked, or overstressed—and it helped to unruffle her prickly demeanor.

They were still working with Severus twice a week on their combined mind Magic’s. They talked most times telepathically from across the Great Hall and at night before lights out. Hermione had come to discover that Draco’s biting wit and ability to rile her up wasn’t as irritating now that most of the sting had been taken out of their everyday interactions. Oh...he still enjoyed poking and pushing her buttons—but now it was primarily just to see her blush or get flustered when he’d say something _saucy_...

But what amazed her was how easy it had been this past month to spend time with him and how much she enjoyed doing so.

He always kept her on her toes...challenged her and made her want to strangle him in equal measure.

Her Grandmother had written recently to let her know that the betrothal contract negotiations were moving along at the pace of a flobberworm. Apparently, Lucius Malfoy’s nature at playing his little mind games was nothing in comparison to how her Grandmother parlayed his volleys. 

Why just yesterday morning, Draco had received a letter from his Father that had left him scowling all day.

When she’d asked him about it, he’d just scoffed and said that his Father had a streak of Gryffindor stubbornness when it came to negotiations and left it at that—but for Hermione? 

She couldn’t help but wonder what kinds of things would be negotiable in such contracts.

So that was how she found herself accosting Daphne after the Quidditch Match (which Gryffindor had won) as they walked back from the pitch to the castle.

“Daphne?”

“Yes?”

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”

The blonde witch side-eyed her curiously, but nodded nonetheless.

“What’s this about?”

“Betrothal contracts. My Grandmother told me a bit about how that works over the summer, but Draco nearly bit my head off yesterday morning when I asked him about it...he didn’t seem too happy.”

“I see.”

“He mentioned something about Lucius being stubborn...but I’d imagine my Grandmother can be just as mulish.”

“Oh, Muriel Prewett has quite the reputation for being obstinate.”

“Lovely.”

Both girls smiled, then Daphne asked, “What specifically did you wish to know?”

“Well, explain to me about the customary _token of good will?”_

“That’s a pretty straight forward one actually,” Daphne mused, “usually, the family of the wizard...Draco’s in this case...would offer a token of good will as a preamble to the accepting of the betrothal. The token is based upon what the wizard’s Family feel the value of the witch in question brings to their line.”

Hermione’s eyebrows lifted in disgust.

“That’s a bit barbaric,” Hermione groused out unhappily, “like how many horses or camels I’m worth?”

“What?”

“Never mind,” Hermione mumbled as she noticed Daphne giving her a rather strange look. “So token?”

“Yes,” the blond witch demurred as they entered the castle together, “tokens are not something taken lightly, but usually carry a familial significance. For example...my Father’s family offered a coral tree as a token for my mother.”

Hermione’s eyes widened. “They’re extremely rare.”

“They are. Both of my Grandfathers are Herbology buffs, and the Greengrass Family has one of the rarest collection of plant species growing in our magical greenhouses at our estate.”

Biting her lip in contemplation, Hermione couldn’t even imagine Lucius Malfoy parting with anything of value for her, especially based upon their antagonistic history.

Daphne, noticing her new friends abject look of disgust, smiled.

“Hermione, your Father-in-Law to be is not a stupid wizard. The entirety of the Sacred 28 knows or suspects of your powers. The man will be hard pressed to not only find something worthy for you joining his family, but something that wouldn’t offend your Grandmother nor yourself in the process.”

“Do families negotiate the token of good will?”

“Oh no,” Daphne smirked wickedly, “that one is _all_ on Lord Malfoy.”

“Okay,” Hermione’s body shivered at the unwelcome thought but decided to forge ahead. “The Gift of Fidelity?”

Daphne’s eyes darted around making sure no one heard the question as she pulled Hermione into an empty classroom and shut the door.

“That is a very personal thing between a wizard and his betrothed. In some cases a wizard may give a witch jewelry, but that fell out of favor over a century ago. _No one ever speaks of the gift...”_

“What do you mean?”

“It’s something that is considered _sacred_.” Daphne clarified lowly. “I asked my Mother once, about it two years ago after I had read likely the same book your Grandmother gave to you—and all she told me was that the giving and receiving of the Gift of Fidelity is such an intensely personal moment between the wizard and his chosen witch, that to speak of it...in a sense, cheapens the meaning behind the gift.”

Hermione sighed and shook her head. “You know, there are times that I wonder what my life would’ve been like had I grown up with my magical parents. I feel in times such as this, that I’ve missed out on so much.”

Daphne took her hand and gave it a sympathetic squeeze.

“I can’t imagine how hard this has been for you Hermione, but I’m happy to answer any questions I can?”

“I appreciate that.”

Both girls smiled together, and as they left the room Daphne inquired, “So Valentine’s Day? You and Draco have plans?”

“Brewing most likely,” Hermione grinned. “I abhor the holiday, always have really. Draco doesn’t seem to be any more enamoured of it than I am—thankfully.”

“Most witches love it.”

“I’m not most witches.”

“No you’re not, and that’s a good thing.” Daphne giggled, “I’m sure Draco appreciates it. He does have a bit of a romantic side when he wants to employ it, but he’s fairly reserved. Gets that from Lucius.”

“And Narcissa?”

“She _adores_ her son, loves him more than _anything_,” Daphne replied easily, “and there isn’t anything she wouldn’t do for him too. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but Draco had a baby sister...Cassiopeia, who died from crib death when Draco was nearly five. It _devastated_ him, and he didn’t come out of his sister’s room for a month. Cried for her too, for nearly as long.”

“How do you know this.”

“It’s one of my first memories, actually.” Daphne frowned sadly. “I clearly recollect my mother talking to her mother about it. Theo’s Mum died around the same time too, and I just remember my smiling friends didn’t smile all that much after that. It’s why Draco is so fiercely protective of the things and people he _truly_ cares about. It’s also why he doesn’t let too many people in.”

“He’s afraid to lose them?”

Daphne nodded and Hermione could see the pain in the other witch’s expression.

“Thank you for telling me,” Hermione’s voice was soft, “I will keep it between us.”

“I know you will.”

The Gryffindor witch watched the other girl walk off towards the dungeons with a heavy heart.

For all she thought she knew about Draco, Hermione realized that there was still so much she needed to learn. 

But at least his behaviors made a bit more sense to her now, and try as she might—her curiosity was peaked about the Gift of Fidelity.

She couldn’t help but imagine what Draco might share with her that he’d consider so special and sacred that he’d only want to give that to her...and her alone...


	62. Be Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco and Hermione spend Valentine’s Day together.

“Hi!”

Draco glanced up and smirked as he saw his lovely witch walk into Severus brewing room, dressed in those blasted trousers again. His heated gaze purposefully lingered, before his eyes locked with Hermione’s and she was smiling mischievously at him.

“Hello,” his voice was husky and he licked his lips for effect, getting the blush he was looking for before turning his attention back to his cauldron. “Are you here to tempt me, or brew with me?”

Hermione huffed, but her eyes sparkled as she came over to his workbench and replied impishly, “I’m great at multi-tasking.”

“Oh?” His raised eyebrows held a mocking edge to them, but were diffused somewhat by the lifted quirk of his lips. “So you wouldn’t mind grabbing me a silk string, would you?”

Hermione glanced at Draco’s cutting board, where he was dicing up Moly Plants perfectly.

“Dreamless sleep?”

He nodded.

Hermione went into Severus cupboard and got the item for Draco, bringing it back to his work station. She noticed he had his potions book open to Wit-Sharpening Potion.

“What are you thinking?”

Draco finished up his chopping before he gave her his undivided attention.

“There are several parts of wit-sharpening potion that allow the drinker to have a clearer ability to think properly, and as you know, it is an antidote for the Confundus Charm. Dreamless sleep has addictive qualities as everyone knows, so I’m trying to combine the basics of both potions to see if I can fabricate something less addictive.”

Hermione just gaped at him and Draco chuckled, amused.

“Close your mouth, Princess. You’ll catch lacewing flies.”

“Prat.”

“Of course,” he hummed as he started preparing the scarab beetles. “I should be done with prep time here in a bit, and then I just have to wait the hour before I can bottle my finished product.”

“Don’t you have to get special permission to brew Dreamless Sleep?”

“Severus brews for the Mind Healers at St. Mungo’s, but this is part of my apprenticeship studies. I’m modifying six potions trials and hopefully of those...two will be approved and patented by the time I’m done with my Mastery.”

Hermione shook her head, even as her heart fluttered at how sexy Draco was when he was discussing academics.

His self-satisfied grin told her he knew she was turned on by his intelligence.

“Have you given any thought to that Mastery you were discussing over Yule?”

Checking Draco’s beetle chopping technique, Hermione hummed in the affirmative. “Some. Charms and Runes have always been my best subjects, so it does seem like a natural progression to be the first to develop anti-animagus wards.”

“Well. If anyone can do it, it’d be _you_, Princess.”

Hermione smiled and blushed again, pleased at Draco praise of her abilities.

“Are you really thinking about getting another Mastery in Charms?”

Draco nodded. “I am.” He then gazed up and noticed Hermione’s thoughtful expression. “What’s that look for?”

“Huh?”

“That look?” He pointed at her expression with a frown. “You look as if your unsure about something?”

Hermione bit her lip, contemplating if she should tell Draco what she’d been thinking as of late. Her thoughts had been more focused with him lately, and even though her emotions were somewhat unpredictable, she could definitely tell he grounded her magic and settled that sense that had her feeling off.

But would that change permanently once they were bonded?

And therein lain the crux of her inner musings as of late.

“Theo mentioned to me before Yule about the bonding process a Sorceress would likely have with her ancillary. I hadn’t given it much thought until recently, because I have noticed my magic feels more stable when I’m with you.”

Draco nodded again, wondering just where Hermione was going with this.

“Did you know we’d be essentially married when the bond manifests?”

“I’d suspected something to that effect, why? Are you not happy with the idea?”

Hermione looked down and shuffled her feet, unsure how to verbalize her feelings. Draco however, wasn’t going to allow her to wallow as he moved over and wrapped an arm around her waist while the other tilted her head up so he could see her face.

“Yes, we will be bonded and from what limited knowledge there is on Sorcery...I suspect an ancillary bond is higher than even a soul bond.”

“Soul bonds are very rare.”

“They are,” Draco paused and then his expression cleared as he considered the options and then went on, “you’re worried that if an ancillary bond is anything like a soul bond—once the bond is sealed will mean we won’t be able to be away from each other for any great length of time?”

Hermione was amazed at how smart Draco was sometimes.

That was it exactly.

“Yes. I don’t want to stop you from following your dreams, but I would like to be included in that too. I have no idea what our parental units are negotiating for our future. I don’t want to be exclusively a stay at home witch, but I do want a family and I do want a career.”

Draco sighed and pulled her into a soft kiss. “I get that. But love, we don’t know what to expect. Maybe instead of looking for trouble, we just deal with what comes. I know how you like to prepare for every case scenario, but in this one instance—I don’t think we have a choice. If you want to do a Charms Mastery, we can talk to Severus together. It’s not completely unheard of for a Master to take on two apprentices simultaneously. Whatever happens, we will make it work.”

“You really believe that, don’t you?”

He chuckled and said, “We don’t exactly have a choice.”

“Nice.”

“It is, what it is. And for myself? I’m rather chuffed with the idea that I get to be bonded to you in such a manner.”

Hermione stared up at Draco stunned.

Did he really just admit he was excited for them to be bonded?

His laughter at her expression caused Hermione to pout, but he just kissed it away and then moved back to his brewing.

After silently working together for the next hour—Draco’s final potion was bottled and labeled and his station cleared. He grabbed his book bag and led them out of Severus office.

“What would you like to do with the rest of our afternoon?” He asked. “Hogsmeade?”

Hermione shrugged, “I wouldn’t say no to Honeydukes and dinner at the Three Broomsticks.”

“Fine. Let me put this away and grab a few things and we will head on down.”

“Okay.”

Hermione followed Draco into Slytherin, where thankfully...the common room was empty. She waited until he returned a few minutes later in his overcoat, gloves and scarf. He wrapped his scarf around her neck and pulled her into a kiss, which deepened instantly. After a few moments he pulled back with a wicked smirk and then pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to her.

Her shock was palpable, as she stared at the gift.

“Open it, witch.”

“You got me a gift?”

“What was the first clue?” He snarked and she pushed his chest playfully as a rebuff.

“Git.”

“Swot.”

“Prat.”

“Know it all.” He chuckled and then demanded, “Open it, Princess.”

Hermione narrowed her gaze as she took the box and did as requested—her eyes widening at the pretty sapphire earrings.

“What is this?”

“I think they’re called earrings?” He bit back with a smug grin. “They go in your ears and you wear them.”

“Draco!”

“Don’t _Draco_ me, witch...I’m allowed to spoil you with gifts as your intended. They are demure, dainty and exquisite. They are also your birthstone, if memory serves.”

“They are.” She swallowed heavily as she gazed down at the goblin silver and tear drop blue sapphire earrings.

“Will you wear them for me today?”

She sighed and nodded, taking them out one at a time and placing them in her ears. When she was done, Draco smiled pleased with himself—as he cupped her cheeks and kissed her one final time.

“Happy Valentine’s.”

“But I didn’t get you anything.”

Draco just shook his head and gave her an incredulous look. “Princess, you don’t need to get me anything but your time and attention. Well, that and a snog here and there.”

She did smack his chest then and laughed at how open and adorable he was in that moment.

“You’re incorrigible, Draco.”

“Yes, and you’re stuck with me.”

“Apparently.”

He took her arm within his and they headed out of the Slytherin Common Room together—making their way into Hogsmeade, blissfully taking in the clear day and enjoying each other’s company.

Completely unaware, they were being watched.


	63. Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just another manic Monday.

Lavender of course, was the first person to notice her new accessories the next morning at breakfast. It was Monday, and Hermione had decided since she didn’t have potions on her schedule for the day, that she would wear the lovely gift that Draco had given her.

A decision she was now, regretting.

“Ooh, Hermione!” Lavender gushed with a pointed look, “Are those new?”

The nosy witch, who’s hair was even curlier than hers _used to be,_ was grinning at her and gesturing at her ears from across the table.

The inward groan as well as the warning glare, didn’t seem to deter Lavender at all as she cooed some more...

“Did Malfoy get you those for Valentine’s Day? I did hear a rumor that you both were officially courting!”

Hermione’s left hand went instinctively to her ear, while her gaze caught the smirking face of her intended as he was watching her reaction closely.

Along with nearly everyone else.

Lavender wasn’t exactly being subtle...nor quiet.

“Yes.” Was all the answer Hermione felt bound to pay, but when the witch tittered again like some lovesick fool, Hermione put her hand up and said, “Lavender?”

The other Gryffindor witch smiled and said in her sickly sweet voice, “Yes...”

“Leave it alone.”

The witch pouted, but turned her head and started whispering in earnest to Faye and Pavarti while Hermione took a sip of her tea and stared down her wizard. 

That was until a voice cleared from next to her.

When she turned her head, Harry was eyeing the earrings with a pursed grimace.

“Those are something.” He offered, before stabbing at his kipper and poking it into his mouth, chewing it like it had offended him. Ron, who was sitting across from them, just looked like he wanted to be sick.

“Oh, stop it both of you!” Hermione hissed lowly, “You both _knew_ this was coming and now you’re acting like petulant, whinging...”

“I’m not whinging!”

“What’s _petulant_ mean again?”

Both Harry and Ron spoke simultaneously and Hermione snickered, but rolled her eyes for effect.

“Is this really going to be an issue?” She asked worriedly, and to Harry’s credit—he just sighed and shrugged helplessly.

“No, I suppose not.”

“Speak for yourself, Harry.” Ron muttered with a mouth full of food, causing Hermione to glare at him.

“Manners, Ronald.”

The red-head swallowed hastily, and took a fortifying sip of his pumpkin juice but didn’t reply.

“I’m going to head to class,” Hermione bit out as she grabbed her book bag, “and until you both can behave and act like mature adults, don’t expect me to help either one of you with your homework!”

“Mione!” Ron blurted out, while Harry just stared at her morosely as she stood up and stormed out of the Great Hall.

Glancing back over to the Slytherin table, Harry could see Malfoy’s narrowed gaze and Theo shaking his head at him in exasperation.

Retuning their stares with one of his own, Harry just bit down through a rasher and chewed it mutinously, refusing to be chastened by the likes of Malfoy or Nott. 

He knew that Hermione’s future with Malfoy was all but a certainty, but it didn’t mean he had to like it either.

The blonde was still a ferrety git as far as he was concerned, and even Ron seemed to be in agreement.

“You both are being _ridiculous_.” Ginny’s hard voice broke through Harry’s staring match and he turned to look at the youngest Weasley, who was glaring at both her brother and him.

“_Leave it, _Ginny.” Ron mumbled, but the witch just shook her finger at them.

“Hermione—whether you both want to agree or not—doesn’t get a say in this. Not really. For some reason you both are going to have to accept that her magic has chosen it’s likely mate, and whether or not you like Malfoy plays no part in it. It’s obvious that he’s changed this year and so has Slytherin House. If they are willing to try and do better, then we all should too.”

“You’re just saying that because you’ve been spending time with Vaisey lately.”

“I have, and he’s a rather good bloke once you get through all the Slytherin bravado. Plus he looks fit in his Quidditch robes.”

Harry rolled his eyes, while Ron snorted in disgust.

“All I’m saying,” Ginny pushed forward, “is you both love Hermione like a sister. You do want to see her happy, right?”

Both Harry and Ron nodded sheepishly after a few moments.

“It didn’t really hit either one of you until just now, did it?” Ginny asked, amused.

“What?” Harry replied, confused.

“That your sister and Malfoy are really going to be bonded at some point. I think you both were living in a kind of _denial_ hoping that Malfoy would end up like Pucey, but seeing her wearing those earrings woke you both up to the truth.”

Harry’s eyes widened in understanding as he glanced at Ron, who just hung his head down in shame.

Ginny was right. 

Neither one of them had really though that Mione would ever end up choosing Malfoy in a million years.

“Shite.” Harry murmured causing Ginny to hum in satisfaction.

“Go find your sister, Harry—and make this right.”

The Boy who Lived nodded, grabbed his book bag and headed out of the Hall, ignoring the stares of everyone as he went to find his sister. 

Luckily, they had their first class together.

When Harry walked into the History of Magic classroom, he took his normal seat next to Hermione and noticed her stiffening slightly as he set his book bag down and took out his supplies before giving her his undivided attention.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered out contritely as he sighed in defeat. “I suppose there was a part of me that hoped Malfoy would end up like Pucey, but there was a smaller part of me that instinctively knew deep down that you both are fairly compatible.”

Hermione’s blue eyes considered him for a moment before she too, sighed heavily. “I know this wasn’t what either of us had thought might happened, but here we are Harry. I’ve spent the better part of this school year denying what my magic was telling me because I couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact that it was Malfoy.”

Harry nodded, understanding that sentiment. “And now?”

“And now, as strange as it’s going to sound? I can’t imagine it being anyone but him.”

“Really?”

“Yes, Harry..._really_.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Language, Brother Mine!”

Harry smiled as he pulled Hermione into his embrace and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry, Sister Mine.”

“You’ve already apologized and we both know I can’t stay mad at you for long. I know you’re just worried about me. Frankly, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I’m worried too.”

Harry was about to inquire as to what Hermione meant by that comment when their class started filling up. Luckily, they had this class with the Puffs, so he didn’t have to see Malfoy or Nott until Defense later on that afternoon.

When class time was over, Harry gave his sister another hug and watched her leave for Ancient Runes, while he headed off to the library to study during his free period before lunch. As he rounded the corner, Harry was somewhat surprised to see Malfoy waiting for him and the expression on the blonde’s face was not happy.

“Potter.”

“Malfoy.”

“You have a minute?”

“Barely.”

Draco nodded and moved effortlessly in step with him as they headed down towards the lower levels.

“You don’t approve.” Malfoy said matter-of-factly and Harry just pursed his lips and shrugged.

“It’s not my position apparently to approve or disapprove.”

“That doesn’t _answer_ my question.”

Harry stopped walking and gestured for Malfoy to follow him into a corridor off the main hallway where he cast several privacy charms, causing the ferret to smirk.

When he was reasonably reassured they were safe from prying eyes and ears, Harry turned on Draco with a scowl.

“Look, Malfoy,” Harry began with an even tone, although Draco could tell he wasn’t happy to be having this conversation with him, “you and I don’t like each other. We _never_ have. True, I refused your offer of friendship back during our first year, but you were a smarmy git looking to assert your wealth and privilege. It wasn’t me you wanted to be friends with...it was Harry Potter..._the fucking Chosen One.”_

Draco stared at Scar-head impassively, but didn’t refute the challenge laid at his feet.

“Being from Gryffindor and Slytherin respectively, we weren’t exactly meant to be friends. It’s taken a set of circumstances neither one of us could’ve ever foreseen for you and I to have to learn to tolerate each other. Hermione is my sister, and I just want her safe and happy. She seems to think you can do that for her, and who am I to get in the way of her happiness.”

Draco’s eyes widened slightly, as he listened to Potter’s impassioned speech with a quirked eyebrow and a slight frown on his face.

“Do you think for one moment, Potter...that this hasn’t been hard on me as well?”

“In what way, Malfoy?” Harry demanded, scoffing in disbelief but Draco chose to ignore the other wizard’s pettiness for the moment.

“I don’t care for you or Weasley, it’s true. I think you both are too brash, hard-headed and judgmental. Everything is black and white with you two and frankly, it’s _annoying_. The world isn’t filled with only good people and Death Eaters...Potter. We all have both light and dark within us and yes...it’s what we choose to act upon that defines who we are.”

Harry paled as he swallowed uneasily at Malfoy’s words...which sounded so much like Sirius in that moment, it made his heart race and his stomach drop.

Draco, seeing the Chosen One’s face crumple, titled his head questioningly. “You alright?”

Harry nodded and took a deep, fortifying breath. “Yeah...it’s just—someone told me something to that effect once not too long ago.”

“Who?”

“My godfather.”

Draco nodded, his expression solemn as he thought about his cousin whom he’d never gotten the chance to know, but was also Hermione’s godfather.

“Well, I didn’t know my cousin obviously, but he sounds like a smart wizard.”

“He really was.”

Both boys were quiet for a moment before Harry checked the time and waved his wand, bringing down the wards and heading out towards the main corridor—but before he left, he turned to Malfoy one last time and said seriously, “Just remember that for all her tough exterior, Hermione just needs someone to understand her and accept her. She doesn’t need fancy jewelry Malfoy; she just needs your support.”

Draco nodded. “I do understand that, Potter—but I can’t help it if I choose to spoil her from time to time. Something tells me she’s never had anyone put her needs first. Not even _you_.”

Harry blushed in shame, but to his credit he just bowed his head at the Slytherin and headed for the library...leaving Draco standing there watching him leave and shaking his own head ruefully.

_Fuck!!_

Did this mean he and Potter were friends now?

Deciding that it was probably best not to dwell on such things, Draco headed towards Runes, which he had with his witch. When he arrived, there was an open seat next to her and he smiled softly as he took his spot just as Professor Babbling entered the classroom.

“Good morning class,” she began brightly, “if you all would get out your homework and pass it to the front of the class, we can get started on todays lesson.”

Draco took his assignment out of his book bag and reached for Hermione’s which she gave him with a small smile. He then passed it forward to Theo and then got out his Spellman’s Syllabary and his copy of Advanced Rune Translation by Yuri Blishen before getting his quill and ink.

Once their assignments were collected, Professor Babbling handed out their assignment for the class period.

“Today you will be working in pairs with your table partner. The runic translations are quite complex as you’ll see and you may not finish during the class period. If not, please continue on with them as homework and turn them in next week for credit.”

Draco took both his and Hermione’s parchments from their Professor and handed his witch her’s, which she took with a quiet ‘_thank you_.’ When he looked down at the translations, his eyes widened at the complexity of some of the conveyances that they were expected to do, and by the expression on Hermione’s face, it would appear as if she knew it too.

“These are rather complex.”

Draco hummed his agreement, as he opened up his Syllabary to the first set of Runes, but Hermione stopped him as she eyed the parchment with a frown.

“I’ve seen some of these symbols before, but they’re not Anglo-Saxon Runes...”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm,” she pointed to the first line, in particular the second rune and said simply, “these are old Norse.”

Draco’s eyes widened in shock. “Are you _sure?”_

“Yes.”

“How do you know this?”

Hermione gazed up and saw Theo looking at her, as he too had recognized some of the Runes on the paper.

“When I went to McKinnon Manor this past summer, I found a few books that were written in Old Norse and these Runes were in them. I’m certain of it.”

Draco bit his lip and nodded. “Okay. I’m sure we can work out the parts of this that aren’t Norse and then check in the Library to see if we can find a resource?”

Hermione bit her lip for a moment and reluctantly acquiesced to the idea. “That’s fine.”

Together they got through about two-thirds of the translations before the class period ended. When they left the room together, Theo wasn’t far behind.

“Hermione?”

She turned and smiled at her cousin. “Hey, Theo. You noticed too?”

He nodded. “I did. Are you going to check in the library?”

Considering the alternatives, Hermione just shook her head. “It might be easier to go back and see if any of the books we found might be useful?”

Theo shrugged. “Or you could call Bunny?”

“I remember that name,” Draco admitted with interest, “wasn’t she the elf left to tend McKinnon Manor?”

“Yes, along with her family.” Hermione admitted, biting her lip in contemplation. “But it might be easier if I go there myself.”

“Hermione!” Theo’s voice held a warning edge, but she just bumped her shoulder into his.

“It will be fine.”

“You’re not supposed to leave the school, Princess.” Draco bit out.

“I’m not going to go right now!”

“Oh, so that makes it okay?”

“Trust me.”

Draco glared at his friends and said coldly, “Theo, Blaise? I will see you both in the Great Hall.”

Theo went to protest, but Blaise knew that look on Draco’s face and pulled Theo with him—the Nott Heir protesting the entire way.

Hermione for her part, had her arms folded over her chest defiantly, as she stared fiercely at her intended.

“Did you have to scare them away like that?”

“Yes!” Draco growled as he pulled her into an empty alcove for privacy. “Do you really mean to go to McKinnon Manor alone?”

“Well, no....” she paused for effect, and almost laughed when she saw Draco eyes narrowing. “I thought maybe...you might like to break a few school rules and come with me?”

The hard expression on Draco’s face gave way to shock, then to exasperation as he rolled his eyes.

“You really expect to tempt me into flouting school rules with you so egregiously?”

Wrapping her arms around his neck, Hermione tilted her head up innocently, as she pouted playfully. “I thought Slytherins liked to break the rules.”

“Slytherins are inherently self preservationists, but something tells me that’s going to fall to the wayside rather spectacularly dealing with you and your Gryffindor sensibilities and penchant for trouble.”

“Who? _Me?”_

Draco chuckled and nodded. “Yes you, my diabolical witch.” He then sighed in defeat. “But if you’re seriously intent on going, then I will tag along if for no other reason than I can’t abide letting you go unchaperoned.”

“Does that mean that Theo will have to go as well?”

Draco leant his head back and groaned, but realized that it probably would mean exactly that.

“Are you sure it’s wise to try and abscond with so many people at once?”

“Well, I could just take Theodore with me and leave you here?”

“Absolutely not!” Draco cupped her cheeks and kissed her swiftly. “I _will_ be going with you.”

“Fine.”

Draco’s gaze narrowed at how utterly guileless his little hellion looked in that moment and he shook his head at how easily she had played him.

“You’re trouble.”

“And?” She kissed him back and then headed out of the alcove, her hair flying behind her leaving a scented trail of vanilla and plumeria in her wake. “You _like_ trouble.”

Draco just watched his little witch sashay down the hall, her hips swaying in perfect rhythm and he couldn’t help but grin to himself.

Hermione Prewett would be the death of him.


	64. Legends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to McKinnon Manor unveils something unforeseen.

It was a few days later on an early Friday afternoon once classes were done that Hermione, Theo, Harry and Draco ended up meeting up in the Astronomy Tower for their excursion to McKinnon Manor.

“Are you sure about this, Sister Mine?”

“It’ll be _fine_, Harry.”

Her brother nodded reluctantly, before allowing Hermione to apparate him through the wards of Hogwarts and back to McKinnon Manor.

He had insisted to be the first to arrive, and when Hermione and he appeared—Harry took out his wand and scanned their immediate area with a barrage of different spells. Satisfied, Hermione called for Bunny, who was ecstatic at seeing her ‘_mistress_’ and asking if she would be needing any snacks for the afternoon.

“That will be fine, Bunny. Has everything here been quiet?”

“Yes, Mistress, no ones evers comes through the wards.”

Eyeing Harry with a smirk, Hermione disapparated and came back with Theo, and then Draco.

When Draco arrived, his eyes widened at his first view of the elusive McKinnon Manor. 

As far as he knew, no one he knew had ever been invited within the walls of this home. His Mother had mentioned it briefly after Sirius will reading that as far as she knew, not even her parents nor grandparents had ever set foot within the grounds of this ancestral estate.

Hermione watched Draco closely as he took in the expanse of the foyer that she’d apparated them into. The large columns that surrounded the room as well as they skylight above were at least 30 metres high. The circular stairs to the left, went up to the second and third levels and the staircase to the right—went down towards the basement and the potions laboratory.

“It’s impressive.” Draco murmured and Hermione nodded, as she took his hand and led him outside towards the path to the smaller cottages on the outskirts of the property. When they got to the Ancient forested area, Draco’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of the large yew trees.

“Merlin!” He whispered in awe. “They are huge!”

Hermione nodded as she walked to the largest of the yew trees, nestled in the middle of the sacred stones and placed her hands gently on its trunk. The tree moved its large branches towards the sky and shivered, almost as if it was sighing in pleasure.

Then the branches groaned as they moved back down, and all three wizard’s stood there staring in wonder.

“What was that?” Draco asked his friend, and Theo shrugged.

“Dunno, but last time we were here, Hermione did the same thing and the tree seemed to respond accordingly.”

Draco nodded, but his eyes continuously gazed around the property—taking in the expanse of the gardens, as well as the forested area—as their quartet walked down the path towards the edge of the grounds.

When they got to a smallish cottage house, Draco paused as he felt they were being watched.

“Do you _feel_ that?”

Hermione glanced up at her intended’s worried expression and tilted her head questioningly.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know exactly, but I feel like someone is watching us.”

Hermione, Harry and Theo glanced around, but no one could see anything. Harry sent out several revealing spells but there was nothing.

“What is it you’re sensing?” Theo inquired curiously, and Draco just shook his head.

“I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels like someone is observing us.”

“Are you sure you’re not being paranoid, Malfoy?”

“No, Potter, I’m not.” Draco was quick to reply.

“Let’s just get what we came for.” Theo offered and they all nodded their heads in agreement as they walked into the cottage and Hermione found the books that had been left in the room from before. Reaching for them, she put them into a small satchel she’d brought when the hairs on the back of her head stood to attention.

“Draco’s right.” She murmured.

“You feel it too?” He came over and pulled her into his embrace and she nodded.

“It’s strange,” she replied uneasily, “I didn’t feel it before when I was here.”

Harry and Theo shared a wary look, as Theo said urgently, “Let’s go.”

As they moved out of the small house, Hermione stopped suddenly—her magic reaching as she felt a power she didn’t recognize.

“Something’s _coming_.”

The boys drew their wands out, and it was a moment later a green light fell over the pathway, moving in their direction until it settled in the clearing right before them.

“What is that?” Harry bit out, his wand held aloft within his hand while Draco and Theo mimicked his offensive posture.

“I don’t know,” Hermione gazed at the light and even though it was odd, she didn’t feel threatened by it. She glanced at Draco and he too, was watching it with a curious expression on his face.

It was several moments later, that the light seemed to move and change shape...until a form emerged.

They all gasped in shock as a woman stood before them, her green eyes piercing and her long black hair flowing down to her waist. Her dress was from a time period long since passed, but her expression was open and friendly.

“Ah, I bid you _welcome_.”

Hermione blanched. “I’m sorry?” Her voice was unsteady. “But this is my home and who are you? How did you get through the wards?”

The woman’s smile was bright and her eyes glistened like emeralds in the light as she took in each one of them, before her knowing gaze landed back on Hermione.

“It has been far too long since one of my kin has had sufficient power to call me here. Praytell, might you be Hermione? Daughter of Marlene?”

Hermione’s eyes widened like saucers as she nodded dumbly, before the woman gazed at Draco with another meaningful look. “And this is your _mate_.”

Draco swallowed, but he bowed his head in the affirmative. “Draco Malfoy.”

The woman beamed at him before her gaze flitted over Theo and Harry.

“Harry Potter...”

“Yes?”

“Please forgive me,” the woman waved her hand blithely, “I should make myself known. I am the Lady Morgan le Fay.”

The four shocked faces were comical as it caused the woman to chuckle at their expressions of disbelief and wonder.

“Merlin’s beard.” Harry whispered, and the woman’s gaze locked onto his with a scowl.

“He was a _braggart filled with vanity and envy._”

The group was brought up short, as they didn’t know how to respond to that at all.

“This was the home where my beloved son Yvain, was born. And through the ages my descendants were all born here, as were you, Hermione.”

“I was?”

“Oh _yes_.” Morgan moved her hand out, gesturing for the group to follow her, which they did. “My husband Urien and I came here to live out our days in peace. This was once the bridgeway to Avalon, and a source of comfort for those who sought out the divine powers of Magic’s.”

“How have you remained here, My Lady?” Theo asked quietly.

“My essence is bound to this place, and my magic protects its borders from those who would seek entrance in the hopes of obtaining knowledge and power for nefarious gain.”

Hermione gazed over at Harry, who seemed to be thinking the same thing she was.

“Have there been witches or wizards who’ve tried to enter this place?”

Morgan nodded. “Some. The pathway to the heart of magic resides here.”

“I don’t understand.” Hermione’s voice was shaking. “The heart of magic?”

“Yes, child. The source where elemental magic came to be.”

That comment caused them all to stop in their tracks—each pausing to take that bit of information in.

“Do you know why my mother and her family would’ve left this place after my birth?”

Lady Morgan shook her head sadly. “Alas, it has been far too long since I’ve been called forth and as such, my magic has lain dormant for far too long. You, Hermione, will have sufficient power when the time comes to open the portal and bring light back into the darkness.”

“I don’t understand?”

Morgan just smiled and replied cryptically, “You will. The veil is thinnest within the stones and under the root of the cosmos—where the boundary of rebirth is met.”

And with those final words, the Lady Morgan faded into the falling light.

After she was gone, the four of them stood and gaped at each other until Theo blurted out, “Did that just happen?”

They all nodded.

“_Holy shite!”_

“Language, Theodore.”

Theo grimaced, but continued to look around as if he still couldn’t believe what they’d just witnessed.

“Why do you think she showed herself now, and not before?” Harry wondered aloud, and Hermione had to admit, she was curious about that as well.

“Maybe we should keep this quiet?” Draco said to Hermione and then looked to each of the others in turn, “It might be prudent to keep this to ourselves, at least for now.”

“I agree.” Harry nodded firmly. “The less people who know about this, the better.”

The foursome all nodded in agreement, before heading back towards the Manor.

When they got there, Bunny had snacks waiting with some warm hot cocoa and chocolate biscuits. After they’d had their fill, Hermione promised Bunny she’d be back for Easter, but that she would check in weekly to make sure everything was alright and to contact her should anything odd untoward occur.

“I wills, Mistress.”

Taking each one of her wizards back in succession, it wasn’t until she was left alone with Draco later on that evening that he asked her how she was feeling.

“I don’t know,” she responded carefully, “I think I’m still processing it all. It almost feels too surreal to be true.”

“Do you think that it had anything to do with the fact that I was there with you?”

Considering that thought, Hermione had to admit—she’d wondered that too.

“Maybe?” She admitted with a small sigh. “I just wish I knew what she meant by her words.”

Draco pulled her into his lap, as they sat together within the common room in Slytherin—which was fairly empty save for a few people lurking about. Luckily, Hermione had erected a few privacy wards so they could have some peace while they talked.

“I think you shouldn’t stress over it, love,” Draco’s voice was cajoling, because he knew how his witch would overthink this, “the answer will likely come in time. I don’t think researching at all hours in the library is a good idea either. If we are to keep this secret, we will have to be judicious with how we go about our investigation.”

Hermione sighed unhappily, as she knew Draco was right. 

They were still working on their mind Magic’s, and both Harry and Theo’s Occlumency was fairly advanced—but that didn’t mean they didn’t need to be careful.

“I need to tell my Grandmother,” Then her voice fell away as she said timidly, “and as much as I abhor the idea...”

“I know.” Draco interrupted, not needing an explanation. 

His parents would have to be told at some point, and Draco wasn’t looking forward to that conversation at all.

“Do you know if your Father and my Grandmother?”

Draco shook his head. “No, I haven’t heard a peep from my Father lately.”

“That’s not worrisome.” Hermione’s voice held a sarcastic edge to it and Draco didn’t want to admit that he was troubled by the lack of communication. He knew how stubborn his Father could be, but he also had a pretty good idea that Muriel Prewett would come out of the negotiations on top. 

That witch was _scary_.

As it turned out, Draco was more right than he knew.


	65. The Snake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius fumes over his inability to get a contract in place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who’ve taken the time to leave a kind word or a kudo. I hope you’re all doing well and staying safe and healthy.

Slamming the parchment down on his desk, Lucius Malfoy stood from his seat and made his way to his set of fine crystal decanters to get a tumbler of firewhiskey—hoping to soothe his frazzled nerves. 

As he poured himself a glass, his floo went off—signaling he had a visitor.

Turning to the hearth, he saw Thoros face in the flames.

“Lucius, do you have a moment?”

Setting his glass down, Lucius waved his wand and opened the floo for his fellow comrade to come through.

A few seconds later, Thoros was standing there siphoning off the soot from his robes and a quick glance and nod at Lucius gesture—had his friend handing him a half full glass of firewhiskey as they both sat down on the sofa.

“You seem unsettled.” Thoros eyes gleamed as he considered the Malfoy Lord over the rim of his tumbler, watching Lucius expression darken noticeably.

“Muriel Prewett is a _stubborn old crone.”_ Lucius replied, his tone biting and Thoros couldn’t help but smirk.

“You’ve always known this,” Thoros replied in amusement, “Did you honestly expect that just because Hermione’s magic had chosen your son, that Muriel would allow you to run roughshod over her in the negotiations?”

Lucius huffed, refusing to dignify that comment with a response—while his friend just eyed him speculatively.

After a few moments of silence, Thoros decided to take pity on his younger friend.

“What’s the issue?”

Waving his wand, Lucius accio’d the parchment and handed it to Thoros, who perused the contents with a calculating gaze before throwing his head back in laughter.

“Well...well..._well_...”

“I don’t appreciate your tone, Thoros.”

“I don’t imagine you would, old friend. But did you honestly believe that Muriel Prewett would agree to allow access to anything in relation to the McKinnon family?” Thoros shook his head in exasperation. “Even I know that Muriel doesn’t have that right. Only Hermione does.” Thoros gaze then narrowed in accusation, “What are you after?”

Lucius stood and moved over to the area behind his desk where a large portrait of his parents were located. He waved his wand and the painting shimmered, revealing a space behind it. Taking his wand, Lucius cut his finger and used his blood to break through the enchantment before pulling out a small ledger of some kind. He then reset the wards, and sauntered back over to his spot, handing the booklet to his friend before re-taking his position on the sofa.

Thoros gazed down at the small book with a discerning eye as he could feel the magic radiating from it. Opening it, he read through the first few pages, his eyes widening in surprise as he continued to read a bit more before closing the book and handing it back to his friend.

“How long has the Malfoy Family had that?”

“Four hundred years, more or less.” Lucius set the book down and grabbed his glass to take a sip of his Ogden’s finest. “One of my ancestors married into the McKinnon line and that book, from what my Father shared, came from the McKinnon estate.”

“Do you know where it’s located?”

Lucius shook his head. “No one does to my knowledge except Hermione, and those she’s allowed to enter the grounds with her.”

“Why is it so important to you to antagonize Muriel in such a vein, when you know her hands are tied?”

“Because I have a theory, and if I’m right it may explain why Marlene McKinnon’s Family left the estate during the height of the First Wizarding War.”

Thoros lifted an eyebrow in question, but Lucius just took another sip of his drink before standing back up and replacing the book back from where he’d taken it.

“Have you given any thought to the ‘_token_’?”

“I have.” Lucius hummed as he sat back down. “And you were holding part of it within your hand.”

“So you mean to return a book that rightfully belongs to Hermione to begin with?”

Lucius shook his head.

“Not exactly, old friend.” The Malfoy Lord paused as he took another sip of his drink, before setting it down on the coaster and sitting back, his expression pensive. “I believe that I am close to discovering the truth behind the McKinnon’s death.”

Thoros was taken aback. “They were killed by Dolohov after Pettigrew outed their location, we both know this.”

“That’s the simplest answer,” Lucius agreed, “but I’m not convinced it’s entirely the _correct_ one.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“We suspect that Dumbledore encouraged the family to leave their ancestral home for reasons no one can guess, but what if the Manor itself was compromised to begin with and the family had no choice but to leave?”

Leaning forward, Thoros eyes glittered with intensity. “How?”

“For generations, it’s been assumed that McKinnon Manor was nigh on impenetrable, but as we’ve learned recently? There may be certain instances where wards, even ones as strong as Hogwarts...can be breached and _have_.”

It only took a few seconds for Thoros to understand.

“Animagus.”

“Yes,” Lucius tilted his head in agreement. “Pettigrew can be ruled out I believe, because as we both know he was the one to tell Dolohov the McKinnon’s location after they left their ancestral home.”

“Then whom?”

“My future daughter in law is an animagus. A Phoenix as we’ve seen. However, she isn’t the only Phoenix.”

“Shite,” Thoros murmured deeply, “Dumbledore’s familiar.”

“Yes. Do you not remember what occurred when Fudge tried to take the Headmaster into custody last year?”

Thoros nodded. “He used his familiar and apparated through the wards of Hogwarts.”

“Indeed,” Lucius drawled arrogantly, “while the wizard is Headmaster, and can come and go as he pleases—perhaps he tried to use his familiar to penetrate the wards at McKinnon Manor.”

Moving back in his seat in shock, Thoros pondered Lucius words carefully and as much sense as it made—how would they go about proving such perfidy?

“It doesn’t explain exactly why you want access to the McKinnon lands.”

“Magic leaves traces as we know, Thoros. If I’m correct, the Headmaster may have been trying to gain access to the McKinnon property for _years_.”

“What if the old coot is an animagus himself?”

“Therein lies the crux of the problem.”

Both men considered the issues at hand, but neither one had a clue what to do about it.

“If you’re right Lucius, and Dumbledore somehow—purposefully made it so the McKinnon’s left their ancestral home...thereby leading them to slaughter? How do you think your future daughter-in-law might take such news?”

Lucius smirked as he smugly crossed his right leg over his left thigh, as he draped his arm over the back of the couch.

“I believe that Hermione will be rather incensed if we can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt that Dumbledore either directly, or indirectly was responsible for having her Mother killed. Can you think of a better token than that?”

Thoros chuckled and shook his head at how utterly Slytherin his comrade was.

“I do believe I can’t, old friend.” Thoros paused then inquired, “Why not tell Muriel directly?”

“Tradition forbids it, you know this.”

“It forbids you from outing the token before its given...but as for myself?”

Chuckling deeply, Lucius silver eyes sparkled with glee. “I do believe that just might work, Thoros.”

“If you’ll excuse me, Lucius? I do believe I best make that visit post haste?”

The other man bowed his head in parting, watching Thoros floo away with a satisfied smile upon his face.

Perhaps his friend would succeed where he could not.

Moving back around his desk with the modified contract from Muriel, Lucius added a few codicils and addendums to some of the more cognizant points. He understood while Muriel wanted the Prewett line to benefit from the union, but Lucius first responsibility was to his house. A male heir, therefore was paramount. Of course Draco and Hermione’s first born son would be the Malfoy Heir. If other children came from the union, which was unlikely as the Malfoy’s hadn’t given birth to more than one heir in over 200 years—then Lucius might understand the notion of having any subsequent children taking over either the Prewett of McKinnon estates. The bride price was another issue he was unwilling to negotiate upon. Normally a dowry would be given by a prospective witch’s Family, but Muriel had decided to enact a more ancient custom and demand an actual bride price for her Granddaughter. She would then match that price into the dowry and that money would be given to Hermione to use at her sole discretion.

It was a mercenary tactic to be sure, and while Lucius appreciated the volley—the amount in which Muriel was suggesting was ludicrous.

The dowry for Narcissa has been a million galleons, and from what Lucius had heard from his friends at school—no witch had ever fetched anything close to that sum.

Muriel wanted _twice_ that amount.

Plus a guaranteed equal sum for each future child, _male or female._

That was simply, unheard of.

For a male heir, yes.

A female?

Lucius scoffed at the thought.

Then the witch had the audacity to demand that Lucius agree to fund any Masteries (_plural!)_ that Hermione wished to undertake, as well as research and travel expenses.

There was even a codicil about wardrobe, jewelry and an unlimited supply of books.

The infuriating crone was trying to put him into the poor house!

Slamming his hand down on the contract, Lucius growled out in frustration. 

It wasn’t the galleons so much, it was being outplayed by a witch!

A vicious Gryffindor witch whom he wanted to strangle.

His irritated groan as he rubbed both hands down his face, wasn’t missed by his lovely wife, who even now—was watching him with amusement.

“Luc?”

Silver eyes lifted to his wife and Lucius felt his body instantly deflate at her presence. She could always manage to calm him, even in the worst circumstances.

“Hello, love. How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long. I just came to see what you’d like for supper this evening.”

Reaching out his hand, Lucius watched his wife move effortlessly into his study as she perched herself onto his lap and kissed him gently.

“I am fine with whatever.” He drawled lazily, his hands grazing his wife’s thighs absently.

Narcissa spied the parchment on the desk, and hummed thoughtfully. “Are you both still haggling over the children’s future?”

“You make it seem as if I have a choice?”

“Of course you do, Luc.” Narcissa admonished with a wave of her hand. “You enjoy the challenge _too much. _Even if Muriel were to give you all you’d ask for? You’d still suspect duplicity and deceit.”

Lucius smiled lovingly at his wife, as she knew him far too well.

“You make that sound like its a bad thing, Cissy.”

“No, it’s not.” His wife was quick to reassure. “But I’m fairly certain, our Son will not appreciate this game of brinkmanship you insist on taking part of. Draco will be seventeen in a little over four months time. You and Muriel need to get something concrete written and sent to the Ministry before that time.”

“Yes, dear.”

Lucius knew better than to argue with his wife. She was a Black, and despite her outwardly calm demeanor—his little vixen was unmatched in both cunning and cleverness.

“I will make sure to get something definitive soon.”

“See that you _do_, dear husband.”

Lucius watched his wife stand and smirked at she placed a chaste kiss on his head before she glided out of his study, his silver eyes glued to her backside.

After she was gone, Lucius tilted his head back on his chair and stared at the ceiling—deep in thought. 

He had to wonder just how fortuitous Thoros visit to Muriel Prewett would be.

He hoped for his sake, his friend was better at negotiations than he was at present.


	66. The Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thoros returns to Fosgate Hall.

Muriel Prewett was sitting in her solarium when Thoros strode in, looking inordinately pleased with himself.

“So?”

“You really should’ve been sorted into Slytherin, Muriel.”

The older woman laughed and shook her finger at the Nott Lord, as she waved him to his seat and Sabbo served afternoon tea for the both of them.

“He showed you the contract?”

“As you _knew_ he would.”

“And he admitted his suspicions about Dumbledore?”

Thoros expression darkened, but he nodded.

“You and Lucius are of one mind on this, which frankly—I’m not surprised at all. Have you given any thought to sharing your suspicions with Hermione?”

Muriel sighed as she poured the tea for both of them.

“This needs to come from Lucius. I suspected his ‘_token_’ would have to be of something rather _extraordinary_—especially if he wishes for Hermione to forgive him in the loss of her Godfather. I’m not going to be here forever, and Hermione’s main source of family will be both you, Theodore and Harry, as well as the Malfoy’s.”

“You don’t blame Lucius?”

Muriel didn’t answer immediately as she passed Thoros a plate of his favorites and then prepared his tea as he liked it.

“I understand that like you, his service to Tom Riddle wasn’t necessarily by his own choice even if he did agree with his ideology. We both remember Abraxas quite well, and what a horrible man he was. I don’t think Lucius had much choice in following Riddle, just as you didn’t, dear.”

Thoros took a measured sip of his tea and nodded his appreciation to his hostess.

As always, she’d prepared it to perfection.

“I just don’t see how Lucius is going prove his suspicions without proper evidence.”

Muriel smirked. “Oh, I think Lucius is more clever than we give him credit for. I’ve often wondered how my Grandsons, the Potters, McKinnons, Edgar Bones and the Longbottoms had all been targeted so successfully within months of each other.”

“You don’t believe it coincidence?”

Muriel scoffed. “In my experience, there is no such thing.” Her expression then morphed into one of practiced familiarity, “Even Amelia has begun to share my concerns.”

The surprised expression on Thoros face was to be expected. “Amelia has always been a staunch supporter of Dumbledore.”

“I think Amelia wished for Dumbledore to believe that, but the death of her brother has never set well with her.”

“Who else shares your opinion?”

“Andromeda Tonks, and her daughter Nymphadora. Dora, as she goes by—is newly mated to Remus Lupin. Of the active remaining members of the Order, only Alistair and Kingsley seem to be firmly in Dumbledore’s pocket.”

Thoros pondered this for a few moments before he inquired seriously, “What do you wish to do about Lucius?”

“I do believe he is on the right track, but I’m unconvinced having access to McKinnon Manor will gain him the information he’s looking for. Dumbledore, for whatever reason, has an agenda and likely has had it for _years_.”

“And he’s not a stupid wizard.”

“No,” Muriel agreed readily, “he’s a manipulative bastard. _Always has been.”_

Muriel hummed as she gazed out the window and pursed her lips in thought. When she turned her blue eyes on Thoros, she noticed he was watching her with concern.

“What do you know of Elphias Doge, or Bathidla Bagshot?”

“Elphias has always been a reclusive wizard and was rumored to be one of the first members of the original Order.”

“And Bathilda?”

“Noted magical historian. Also reclusive. Lives in Godric’s Hollow from what I remember.”

“Albus also lived in Godric’s Hollow as a boy. His brother Aberforth owns the Hogs Head in Hogsmeade. They do not get on.”

Thoros sat there and pondered that information before he asked, “Which one is the weak link?”

Muriel grinned and said simply, “If I had to guess?”

Thoros nodded.

“Bathilda. She’s old and lonely and if anyone has any information we could use, it just might be her. Tell Lucius to start there.”

The Nott Lord grinned malevolently as his expression noted his admiration.

“I’d forgotten how diabolical you are, Muriel. Is there anything else I should be concerned about?”

Lady Prewett just snickered, “Don’t get on my bad side.” Her face fell for a moment as she sighed sadly, “Truth be told, I’ve had these suspicions for _years, _Thoros—but being left out in the cold as I was—it made it impossible to enact my own plans.”

Taking Muriel’s hand, Thoros felt his stomach drop in shame. 

He’d never checked in on Muriel in all the years since the First Wizarding War. He’d not been there for her when her daughter passed away from Dragon Pox. He’d dismissed her needs because of his duty to the Dark Lord, and he was deeply ashamed of his actions.

It was not how he was raised to be, and despite his lack of consideration for Muriel...when the time had come and she’d seen the need for his son and Heir to have a place with family and love—she’d opened her home and heart to Theodore and encouraged Hermione to do the same.

He felt like an utter failure.

“I owe you a sincere apology, Muriel.”

The older witch’s eyes gleamed for a moment and then she grasped his hand in return and patted it reassuringly.

“I won’t offer empty platitudes and tell you it’s fine, Thoros. But if there’s one thing you can do to make it up to me, is to make sure that Hermione is kept safe and promise that my Fabian and Gideon are avenged.”

Thoros took his wand and waved it as he promised solemnly, “You have my magical vow, Muriel—that I will protect Hermione with my life and will make sure those who are responsible for the deaths of Fabian and Gideon suffer the consequences of their treachery.”

“Thank you, Thoros.”

The wizard nodded and the conversation switched to simpler concerns and as he left Fosgate Hall, Thoros promised himself that he’d make sure that Muriel wasn’t left alone again.


	67. The Token

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucius gives Hermione his Token.

Weeks had passed and Hermione hadn't heard much from her Grandmother other that negotiations with Lord Malfoy were still progressing and for her not to worry about anything other than her school work.

Draco had gotten the same exact same response to his letters as well.

So with that in mind, both of them decided to let it go for the time being and just spend this time working on their classes and learning more about each other.

Theo and Luna were spending quite a bit of time together as well, and even Harry had started dating too. 

He was seeing Katie Bell and even though she was a year ahead of Harry, the two had the same interests.

Primarily Quidditch.

As Easter hols loomed, Hermione was spending most of her free time on the weekends brewing with Draco, which had proven to be fortuitous as she also got to spend a bit of time with Professor Snape. She and Draco had discussed their concerns about their eventual bonding with him, as well as the fact that they both wanted to get Mastery's in Charms. Severus had listened, and lamented, then _snarled_ at how unfair it was that he would be _required_ to teach them—and wasn't he doing enough having to put up with their other extracurricular endeavors too?

Draco had pulled his godfather aside—after Hermione had left the room nearly in tears—and had taken him to task for being such a brooding, insensitive dunderhead. 

Severus had sneered at Draco and then left the room, robes billowing behind him—while Draco had smashed his forehead onto his desk—never having in all his years, spoken to his godfather in such a way.

Over a week had gone by until Severus had spoken to him again and it hadn't even been a proper conversation. He'd just handed Draco a stack of parchment with the word '_here_' and left the potions lab.

But when Draco read over the papers, he'd felt his body sag with relief.

It would seem that his godfather, for all his insistence that he didn't have a heart—had actually capitulated and agreed to allow Hermione to apprentice their shared seventh year in Charms.

When he'd given Hermione the information, which was essentially an intensive schedule for the following year from Severus—she'd taken one look at it and burst into happy tears, snogging him repeatedly throughout the day and telling him what a wonderful wizard he was.

Of course, Draco had been chuffed and righteously smug for weeks afterwards.

Gryffindor had also won their next match against Hufflepuff, which set up the final match of the year between Slytherin.

If Draco hadn't been nearly stretched to the limit between classes, perfect duties, his apprenticeship, his witch and Quidditch? 

He was feeling the stress fraying his normally stoic facade some days.

That was why when Easter hols finally did come, it was a huge relief to be returning home for a much needed break from his school work.

He was also looking forward to just spending time with Hermione without the other distractions.

So it was somewhat of a surprise to find both his Father and Mother waiting for him on the train Platform at Kings Cross, both looking inordinately pleased.

"Father, Mother?"

"Hello, darling." Narcissa kissed her son's cheek in greeting, before nodding to his Father.

"Not that I'm not thrilled to see you both, but is something wrong?"

"No, Draco," his mother was quick to reassure, "we are having dinner at Fosgate Hall this evening and we thought it might be nice for us to all go together."

Draco wasn't adverse to the idea, but he was also wary. Turning his head, he glanced over his shoulder and noticed Theo speaking with his Father—who was with Harry and Hermione.

"Is everything alright?" Draco inquired again, quieter this time. "Lady Prewett isn't here."

"She's attending to dinner preparations and asked Thoros to bring the children. He and Theo will be dining with us as well."

Draco nodded, because he had nothing to say to that comment.

"Shall we go?" Lucius demanded haughtily, as he offered his arm back to his wife—who took it with years of practice born of their union—while Draco followed his parents over to his intended and her family.

Once they'd reached them, Hermione's smile had Draco feeling a bit better—his uneasiness fading a bit. 

He didn't know why he was feeling unsure, and it was probably his imagination but he just felt apprehensive.

That feeling didn't abate once they'd reached Fosgate Hall, and made their way to dinner. Draco escorted his witch and made small talk with Theo and Potter—trying his best to ignore the feeling of anticipation settling in his gut.

When the meal was done, and they were all seated in the solarium—enjoying the clear night sky—his Father stood and addressed the room.

"Narcissa and I want to thank you first off, Muriel, for inviting us into your home this evening."

Muriel bowed her head at the concession, while Hermione and Harry just sat there perplexed. 

Theo however, gave his mate a knowing nod.

Draco now finally realized what was going on...

_Shite!_

He watched his Father pulled two wrapped packages out of his robes...the one on top a bit smaller than the one on the bottom.

"As I'm sure you've become aware, Miss Prewett, it is customary for the Patriarch of a wizards family to offer a token of good will. Something of this vein, signifies not only respect for the witch, but her family as well. As such, tokens are never to be taken lightly but given and received in the spirit in which the token is intended."

Hermione glanced at her Grandmother, who's own expression was a strange mixture of veiled curiosity and..._satisfaction?_

Strange.

Lord Malfoy cleared his throat and handed Hermione the first package. She took it with a sincere '_thank you_' and opened the wrapping, her eyes widening as she stared at the antique book.

"This is beautiful, Lord Malfoy." Her blue eye lifted to silver as she inquired, "Might I ask what it is?"

"That book, Miss Prewett, has been in the Malfoy Family for four centuries. One of my ancestors, married into the McKinnon family and that book you hold there came from the McKinnon library. As you can see, the writings are runic in nature, and whilst I understand some if it—I would imagine the only translation books available are within your ancestral home."

Muriel smirked, as she now understood a bit better just why Lucius wanted access to McKinnon Manor.

"This is..." Hermione swallowed heavily as she gazed at Draco, who was smiling softly at her. "Thank you, Sir."

"You're welcome, Miss Prewett, but I must admit...whilst I'm happy to return that which is rightfully yours...that is not the token itself." Lucius then handed her the second package which Hermione took with a bit more grace. "_This is."_

Taking a moment, Hermione nodded to herself as she opened the wrapping and then stared down at the book in astonishment, her eyes widening comically at the title...

_ **The Life and Lies Of Albus Dumbledore** _

_ **By: Rita Skeeter** _

"What?"

Harry glanced down at the book, his eyes darkening in suspicion before they landed back on Lucius.

"I know you must be wondering why this book would be consider a _token of good faith?"_

Hermione nodded, clearly confused and somewhat dismayed.

"Due to our unfortunate past associations, it became glaringly obvious once your history and my subsequent vow was revealed and made, that there were things at play that I simply hadn't _foreseen_. As I spent these past months pondering those things, it became clear not only to myself, but Lord Nott and your Grandmother—that certain truths were kept hidden. That book there, seeks to expose some of those truths and perhaps will give you more context as to why certain things were _allowed_ to happen. I, as Draco's Father, and your future Father-in-Law—refuse to idly sit by any longer as we are all played as pieces on a chess board of another's making. That book you hold, will be published come the morrow. I waited until you, Mr. Potter and Draco were safely returned home, so that you could read what has been written and understand who is most likely responsible not only for the death of your parents, Miss Prewett—but others as well."

Hermione's hands were shaking and she felt Harry's hand cover hers, as he stared down curiously at the book before he remarked shortly, "Skeeter isn't exactly known for being truthful with her words."

Lucius smirked and bowed his head in agreement. "Perhaps not, but her sources are irrefutable."

"Such as?"

"Bathilda Bagshot primarily, as well as Elphias Doge. Thoros and I even got special permission to visit Gellert Grindelwald in Nurmengard, and he confirmed much of what was written from Dumbledore's early years. He isn't used as a direct source, but he did help us discover a few things we didn't think to look for ourselves."

"And how did you know to ask him, Father?"

"He is Bathilda Bagshot's great-nephew."

"Merlin!" Theo whispered, and Draco nodded. "And she just _willingly_ shared all this?"

"Most of it." Lucius replied with a gleam.

"You gave her Veritaserum, didn't you?" Hermione's expression was hard and Lucius just smirked at how intelligent his Son's intended was. 

He nodded, seeing no reason to lie.

"Severus brewed it himself."

All the children sat there, mouths agape. "Uncle _knew?"_

"Don't be ridiculous, Draco," Lucius answered haughtily, "you know Severus would've never asked for the particulars...he can't claim plausible deniability if he did."

Draco chuckled and nodded, while Harry and Hermione just sat back stunned.

"Is that legal?" Harry wondered, and Theo snorted.

"Does it really matter, Harry? Do you think for a single moment, that the Headmaster would be so concerned over proper procedure if there was something he desperately needed?"

Harry didn't know how to answer that, as he'd had doubts for a while about Dumbledore's motivations. Especially after Hermione's heritage was discovered and Sirius death at the Ministry.

Lucius gestured to the book. "Read it, Miss Prewett and _prepare_ yourself. When you return to school, you may find the Headmaster not as agreeable as before. There will be those who will look upon this as a blatant fabrication, but there are others who will see the truth of the words written therein."

"Why Skeeter?"

"Because it will be _assumed_ that she was the instigator behind this expose and frankly, if there is any backlash, I'd gathered you wouldn't be adverse to the witch having to deal with such considerations."

This did get a brief smile from Hermione. "You've thought of everything, haven't you?"

"A token as such given—shows great thought and care for the witch it's meant for. I only wished to convey not only my contriteness for the past, but hopefully show you my sincerity and ability to protect you as the future wife to my Son and heirs to the Malfoy Family."

Hermione stared down at the book again, her mind swirling with thoughts, but the most persistent one was simply voiced as, "I don't know whether to be abhorred or impressed by your thoughtfulness, Lord Malfoy."

Lucius chuckled. "If it hadn't been for your parents being such lions, Miss Prewett—I'd imagine you would've done well in the House of Snakes."

"Now you're just being _cheeky_."

The genuine laugh that fell from the Malfoy Lord shocked those within the room, but his expression was filled with mirth as he considered the young witch before him.

"I don't think in all my years, I've ever been accused as such."

"Not true, darling..." Narcissa lamented with a conspiratorial wink to the young witch, who shared a genuine smile with her future Mother-in-Law.

Theo then cleared his throat and gave his cousin a questioning look, and both Harry and Draco knew what Theo was asking silently. 

Hermione sighed, but nodded as she turned to her Grandmother and said seriously, "Grandmother, I have something I need to tell you."


	68. Master Manipulator

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May the real Albus Dumbledore, please stand up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love...love...love the great comments! You all are wonderful!

_ **The Life and Lies Of Albus Dumbledore** _

_ **Forward by: Betty Braithwaite** _

_ **It is to be noted, that Albus Dumbledore—venerable Headmaster of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry as well as the former Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot—has lived a reclusive life and as such, there remains an aura that surrounds him like a veiled cloak of mystery and intrigue. His more notable exploits are widely known, but the motivations behind those accomplishments were purely speculative.  
** _

_ **Until now.** _

_ **In his formative years, Albus Dumbledore lived with his family in Mould-on-the-Would until his father, Percival—was sent to Azkaban for the murder of muggles, and his mother Kendra moved Albus, his younger brother Aberforth and his youngest sister Ariana to Godric’s Hollow.** _

_ **It was here, the venerable wizard met Gellert Grindelwald, great-nephew of the noted magical historian Bathilda Bagshot.  
** _

_ **It was also here that the true nature of whom Albus Dumbledore truly was and is, would become born.** _

_ **Gellert Grindelwald, as we all know from history, was a dark wizard. A zealot whom attended Durmstrang and was subsequently expelled at the age of sixteen for his penchant for twisted and dark experiments. Undeterred, he branched out and eventually joined forces with Dumbledore, their ideologies as youths bent on “World Domination” and “Wizarding Supremacy,” all for the Greater Good. Correspondence between the two wizards was of a decidedly ‘intimate’ nature and can be seen starting on page 394.** _

_ **But this was not the most scandalous of truths...no...** _

_ **Dumbledore was given charge over his sister, Ariana...who’s own magical gifts being somewhat suspect caused the altercation with Muggles when the girl was young, and this was the impetus for their Father’s imprisonment. Being the eldest son, the care for his baby sister fell to the young Albus, but he resented this responsibility and lamented often to his good friend, Gellert—wishing to be able to join the Dark wizard on his more than questionable escapades.** _

_ **All that changed one fateful night in Godric’s Hollow when a duel broke out between Albus, Gellert and Albus younger brother Aberforth. It was never discovered who cast the killing curse that took young Ariana’s life, but Grindelwald left Godric’s Hollow never to return.** _

_ **In the years to come, Albus Dumbledore made a name for himself as a Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts. His goal was to shape the minds of those he taught and use them to do his bidding.** _

_ **Newt Scamander, noted Magical Magizoologist was one such pawn, used to free Albus Dumbledore from a blood pact that he’d made with the erstwhile Grindelwald which eventually lead to the now famous duel between the two wizards.** _

_ **As the years passed, Albus Dumbledore has led those around him to believe that he is the guardian of the light, but those who have seen his power grow within the British Magical Community, have often wondered just what of the former Albus Dumbledore’s motivations remain to this day. Many good witches and wizards have flocked to his banner, all under the guise of the ‘Greater Good.’ Many of those have died as well.** _

_ **This book will separate truth from rumor and give insight into the complex mind of one of the most powerful wizards of our time.** _

_ **The larger question remains...just whom is Albus Dumbledore really?** _

_ **For all those questions and more, Rita Skeeter does a superlative job separating truth from fiction...read on!** _

The Headmaster slammed down the book in anger!

How in the world had Rita Skeeter known where to dig up his skeletons?

There were very few people left alive that knew of that time in his life...three really, and one of those was in prison.

So who had talked?

Albus wasn’t a stupid wizard, far from it but...this?

_He had not foreseen this!_

He had spent many years seeking out power, with Gellert and without. He was Master of the Elder Wand, and unbeknownst to those at the Ministry when Tom was vanquished—the Resurrection Stone had survived Miss Prewett’s power.

_Being a Hallow it could not be destroyed._

He knew where the cloak was, and had hoped that with the death of the Potter lad—he’d be able to procure all three of the most important magical artifacts the world had ever known.

The one goal both he and Gellert had shared.

**The Deathly Hallows.**

The goal that he’d never given up on.

Apparently however, there was more to the Hallows than even he’d known.

The Hallows would only give him the key, but he’d realized in 1979–he’d need to get access to McKinnon Manor to open the door—and for over fifteen years, since he’d discovered the truth...he’d desperately tried to find a way into gaining access to the elusive McKinnon Manor.

Oh yes, he’d overheard Sybil spout the Prophecy of the Prewett Heiress.

He’d realized there was so much more to the Hallows on that fateful day.

It had been fortuitous that he’d found himself to be in Scrivenshafts that early June afternoon—after the Order meeting at the Three Broomsticks.

He’d seen Marlene McKinnon and Fabian Prewett walk into the store together, leaving behind the Potter’s and Sirius Black and hadn’t thought much about it, as he was in the back of the store to grab some supplies.

He was talking quietly with the owner, when he’d heard the bell on the door chime again, and then spied Sybil Trelawny move into the shop. He was to meet her the following afternoon for a teaching position, and had his reservations about her suitably for the position of Divination Professor...but all that changed when he’d heard the words that had come from her mouth.

He’d wandlessly stunned and then obliviated Scrivenshaft, whilst making himself invisible to the two people in the shop, who were staring at the witch like they’d seen a ghost.

It wasn’t even a month later that the McKinnon family had gone into hiding.

And the following afternoon, Sybil had given another Prophecy...this one about a child born as the seventh month dies.

One who would have the power to vanquish the Dark Lord.

He’d simply had no choice but to hire the barmy witch after that—and offered her some measure of protection for her unknowing assistance.

Fortunately through some careful plotting on his part, that he’d finally played the chess board to his advantage.

Then he’d discovered that the Prewett babe hadn’t died after all, and like the Master manipulator he’d always been?

He’d readjusted and recalculated.

For every plan, he’d had a backup to it.

It had been that way during his time fighting Gellert and Tom..._all to get to his final goal._

Albus thought all he’d have to do was sit patiently and wait for the right time to move his final Queen into play...and then this ridiculous book happened!

Fortunately, it had not ruined his plans...but _had_ put a severe dent into them.

Sighing heavily, Albus had to wonder just how he was going to downplay some of the more outlandish claims within the book. Bringing a libel suit now would cause more scrutiny than he wished to deal with, and frankly...he could simply hope that his reputation as being the purveyor of light and vanquisher of Dark Wizards would generate some good will. Those who knew or highly suspected the truth were all either dead, in prison or obliviated.

No...bringing more attention to himself was never a good thing.

He’d act the doddering, eclectic, old fool and let the masses think what they will.

If everything went to plan, in a few short months he’d finally have his final goal within reach.

He just had to hope no more unforeseen circumstances would make themselves known, thereby hindering his plans.

_He was running out of time._


	69. The Tales of Beedle the Bard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the return to Hogwarts, much is speculated upon...and a few truths are discovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains the actual story from The Tales of Beedle the Bard. All rights belong to J.K. Rowling.

Returning back to Hogwarts after Easter hols had filled Hermione with a sense of dreaded anticipation.

Rita’s book had become an overnight _sensation_, selling out in every Wizarding bookstore from Hogsmeade to Diagon Alley.

It had even, according to a letter from Viktor—made it to Bulgaria. Igor Karkaroff, Viktor’s former Headmaster at Durmstrang had—according to Viktor—been one of the secret sources behind the book.

Hermione had to wonder just how many witches and wizards had provided anonymous information about Dumbledore to Rita Skeeter.

Several Wizarding publications had lamented over the fact that the ‘_Great Albus Dumbledore’_ had yet to come out and refute the allegations made in the book.

Some of the more notable ones had left both Hermione and Harry _reeling_.

They’d venerated the man for five years, only to find out now that he may have very well been setting them up like the lambs for slaughter.

She still didn’t understand why exactly.

At least until she’d found Luna on the train sitting with Theo, her normal wistful expression completely absent from her face.

“Hey Luna.”

“Oh hello, Hermione.” Luna smiled sympathetically at her friend. “How have you been this past week?”

“I’ve been fine.”

Luna nodded sagely, and Hermione noticed she had a letter clasped in her hands.

“My Father wanted you to have this and asked me to give it to you personally.” Luna’s voice was tinged with worry. “He seems to be rather unlike himself these past few days.”

Hermione took the proffered letter with a soft, ‘_thank you’ _while Harry and Draco—who had just come into their compartment, were making themselves comfortable.

“What’s that?” Harry asked, as he sat down next to his sister on the left while Malfoy took the spot to the right.

“It’s a letter from Luna’s father.”

Draco lifted a curious eyebrow. “Why would Xenophilius be writing to you?”

Glancing back over at Luna, the blonde witch just shrugged. “I got the impression the letter would explain it. He didn’t tell me much.”

Waving her hand at the door, warding it private—Hermione carefully opened the letter to see an elegant handwritten scrawl staring back up at her—addressing her formally...

_ **Miss Prewett,** _

_ **I understand from my Luna that you and she are good friends. I had the opportunity over break to read the now infamous book about Headmaster Dumbledore and something caught my attention I thought you should perhaps...be made aware of.** _

_ **On page 394, the correspondence between Grindelwald and Dumbledore would seem to some, rather innocuous except for the signature at the bottom. Now some, might think this insignia to be a meaningless rune, but to those of us who know better?** _

_ ** It is the mark designating the most powerful magical artifacts known in existence.** _

_ **I have to wonder if you are familiar with the old children’s tale of the Three Brothers?  
** _

_ **If not, I would encourage you to read it again more carefully. That story, is no mere fairytale. It’s words are based in a truth so long forgotten, that there are very few alive who remember the tale.** _

_ **Death, and his gifts...are denoted in the story. The wand, the stone, the cloak. The Deathly Hallows they are called. To possess them all, makes one Master of Death.** _

_ **Dumbledore obviously knew of their existence, and what’s more? I believe that he and Gellert Grindelwald may have actively sought them out. Whether or not Dumbledore obtained these treasures is a mystery to be sure.** _

_ **But there is more.** _

_ **For legend says that for the Hallows to offer its secrets, they must be returned to the place where they were created. No one knows where this place is, or if it even exists. It is a doorway, a place where the veil is thinnest.** _

_ **I hope this letter can answer some questions for you. My Luna seemed to believe that you would be in need of as much information as possible. I also wish to convey my everlasting gratitude for your friendship and loyalty to my Luna.** _

_ **Your humble servant,** _

_ **Xenophilius Lovegood** _

Hermione handed the letter to Draco, as Harry had read it over her shoulder and they were both silently communicating to each other about what it could all possibly mean.

When Draco had finished it, he handed it to Theo—who’s expression was filled with worried impatience but once he’d read the letter, he just set it down next to him and cocked his head in confusion.

“I know that story. It’s in the book Tales of Beedle the Bard.”

Draco hummed in agreement. “It was my favorite of all the stories.”

Both Harry and Hermione just shook their heads, as they didn’t know of the story at all.

“I can recite it if you like?”

Hermione smiled and said, “Please.”

So Draco did just that...

_There was once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts—and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure. And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning—he pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him._

_So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful than any in existence; a wand that must always win duels for its owner, a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an Elder tree on the banks of the river, fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother._

_The second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided he wanted to humiliate Death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead._

_And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without him being followed by Death._

_ And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own cloak of invisibility._

_Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure they had had, and admiring Death’s gifts._

_In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination._

_The first brother traveled on for a week or more and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally, with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the eldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and how it made him invincible. That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the wand and for good measure, slit the oldest brother’s throat._

_And so Death took the first brother for his own._

_Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him. Yet soon, she turned sad and cold—separated from him as by a Veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her._

_And so Death took the second brother for his own._

_But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him.  
_

_It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son.  
_

_He then greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and, equals, they parted this life._

Their group was quiet for a few moments as they all absorbed Draco’s words. If she had heard the story as a child, Hermione had no doubt she’d believe it to be some elaborate tale of no great measure...much like the Muggle fairytales of Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty. But now? She had to wonder just how much of these magical tales night actually he rooted in something more real?

“So the Elder Wand?” She asked and Theo nodded before he replied, “And a Stone to bring back people from the dead..”

“A _Resurrection_ Stone.” Harry offered, and Hermione nodded too—thinking that was an appropriate title for it.

“And a Cloak of Invisibility.” Luna hummed as she gave Harry a knowing look, which no one missed.

Hermione turned to her brother and lifted an eyebrow questioningly. “Harry, didn’t you tell me that someone left that cloak for you back during first year?”

“Yes,” Harry’s brow furrowed uneasily, “there was a note too. It said ‘_**your Father left this in my possession when he died. It is time it was returned to you..use it well.”**_

He then pulled out the cloak and enlarged it magically, before handing it to his sister, who rubbed the fabric between her fingers.

Draco however, just scoffed.

“So that thing is how you two managed to sneak around the castle and not get into trouble for five years?”

Harry chuckled and nodded, while Hermione blushed prettily and bit her lip. Her blue eyes shining with mirth.

“Uhm, yes?”

“Unbelievable!” Draco growled out lowly, clearly irate while Theo just stared at the cloak with a questioning gaze.

“When did you get it, Harry?”

“Christmas, first year. It was left for me in the Gryffindor common room.”

Everyone pondered that factoid, until Draco spoke up.

“So I think it’s fairly safe to assume that Dumbledore left it for you, but I think the larger question is why? I mean, if he was seeking out these Deathly Hallows, wouldn’t he have kept it for himself?”

The five of them just stared at each other, then the cloak as they pondered that question deeply.

Hermione had to admit that Draco made an excellent point.

“Why do you think your dad gave it to Dumbledore in the first place though?” Theo lamented with a deep scowl. “I mean, Dumbledore would’ve had to have had the thing when your parents were killed, right? If your parents had that cloak, and it really is a Hallow, it could’ve protected them?”

Harry’s eyebrows lifted in surprise as he registered that comment, and by the look on his sister’s face, she too seemed to be thinking along the same lines he was.

“What if Dumbledore asked to borrow it, to see if it really was the actual Cloak in the story?” Luna asked quietly. “Maybe your dad really did let him take it willingly?”

“Then why give it back?” Draco asked again. “I mean, the only reason I can see that as an option is it’s either not the Cloak from the story or Dumbledore needed you to have it for some reason?”

“You two would’ve never gotten away with all the things you did without that cloak, right?” Theo inquired and Harry nodded, while Hermione just sat back and pondered all the variables in her prodigious mind.

“What if he _had_ to give it back?” Hermione finally piped in. “What if for some reason, he not only needed Harry to have the cloak, but somehow was betting on the fact that he could take it back whenever he wished?”

“It did make things easier.” Harry agreed readily, “without the cloak we never would’ve been able to do half the stuff we did.”

“Agreed.” Hermione nodded slowly. “So this way, he gives you the cloak and he knows where it’s at. He can get it back at anytime or perhaps he assumed from the Prophecy, that you wouldn’t survive your encounter with Voldemort?”

“What Prophecy?” Theo asked, as he leant forward his forearms resting on his thighs as he turned his attention from Hermione to Harry, and then back again.

“There was a Prophecy about Harry in the Department of Mysteries, which is where we broke into the end of last year.”

Draco shook his head, while Theo turned to Luna and gave her a wicked grin. “You broke into the Ministry with these two dunderheads?”

“Well, it seemed like the right thing to do at the time.” Luna replied breezily.

Theo chuckled and Draco smirked at his witch, who was grinning at him.

“So what did this Prophecy spout out about our resident Boy wonder?” Draco drawled lazily, causing Theo to snicker while Harry just glared over at the blonde wizard in disgust before replying...

“_Neither can live while the other survives._”

“That old coot really believed you weren’t going to survive!” Draco scoffed in disgust and both Harry and Hermione just stared in horror at each other...wondering how they could’ve been so blind not to see it.

“What do we do?” Hermione asked quietly while Harry shrugged helplessly.

“I think we need to know if Dumbledore has the other two items.”

“And how do we find that out?” Theo wondered out loud, while the other four just sat there feeling wary and uncertain.

How would they be able to find that out, and just whom could they go to that might have that information?


	70. We Need to Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Theo have an uncomfortable conversation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who’ve read, reviewed and left a kudo. I know I haven’t gotten to responding to the reviews lately and I will soon...promise! Hugs!

Harry was getting ready to _avada_ someone. 

He’d spent the entire week after they’d gotten back from Easter hols deflecting questions from his friends. 

Ron, who had been sore that he hadn’t been told about the book, was sulking a bit like he’d done back during their fourth year. Neville, who had always been quiet, was now more introverted than normal. The only thing he’d questioned Harry about was whether the excerpts about his own parents in the book were true. Apparently, Rita had speculated that his parents—who both had been Aurors and members of the Order—had been betrayed after James and Lily Potter’s deaths. 

All the signs pointed to Dumbledore outing them and poor Neville had been a basket case all week.

Dean and Seamus had peppered him with questions too, and Seamus—who didn’t have a stellar track record of believing things had surprised Harry when he’d just shook his head in disgust and said, “I’d often wondered _why_ Dumbledore had let you lot get away with so much over the years.”

Harry, had been wondering the same thing too. 

More and more as the week went on.

Unfortunately, his mood hadn’t improved much at all when he was taken aside by Theo the first Saturday after term resumed, the Slytherin’s expression severe.

“We need to talk.”

“Okay?”

Harry allowed Theo to pull him into an empty classroom, and watched bemused as the Slytherin warded the room for privacy.

“I had a thought.”

“And this thought caused you to accost me into a classroom?”

Theo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You Gryffindors are such _drama queens.”_

“Excuse me?”

“Later,” Theo gestured to a seat, taking one for himself as they faced each other. “You don’t turn seventeen until the end of July, right?”

Harry nodded, confused as to where Theo was going with this.

“Who controls your vaults?”

“What?”

“Your vaults, Harry! Who gave you the key first year to get into your vault?”

Harry just gaped at Theo like he’d lost his fucking mind, but blurted out ‘_Hagrid_’ and Theo nodded, clearly expecting something along those lines.

“Your Mum and Dad would’ve never left Hagrid in charge of their vaults, which means...”

“That they left Dumbledore as a trustee over my vaults.”

“Now why would they have done that _unless?”_

“Shite!” Harry growled out angrily. “He somehow convinced my parents to give him access.”

“Or, your parents might’ve made him a beneficiary of some kind and if they did?”

Harry didn’t need to say it, both he and Theo were thinking the exact same thing.

If Harry had died, Dumbledore would’ve gotten the cloak most likely, legally. 

It was probably what he had been counting on?

“I don’t get something though?”

“What?” Theo asked with curiosity.

“The Elder Wand, the most powerful wand ever made, right? And this resurrection stone? Who had them and why would it make a difference _how_ Dumbledore got the cloak?”

“Maybe because that Cloak has been magically passed down from father to son for who knows how long? Magical objects, like wands, are sentient unto themselves. So maybe in the case of your cloak, Dumbledore took it and realized he couldn’t take full ownership of it unless it came to him rightfully. Like the way a wand can be won...”

“What did you just say?”

“A wand. You can win allegiance to a wand, you know? During a duel.”

“A duel...” Harry’s eyes widened and he stood up pacing while Theo watched him closely. After a few moments Harry stopped and ran his hands through his hair. “Do you think that Dumbledore’s wand might be the Elder wand? I saw him battle Voldemort at the Ministry—the magic was ..._blimey!_ It was more than impressive. Way more than, actually.”

Theo paused for a moment as he thought about it, and then he stood too...his expression falling.

“Hermione let me see what happened that night.” Harry’s head flew back in shock as his eyes narrowed at the Slytherin, but Theo soldiered on. “I think we need to revisit that night. See if we missed anything.”

Harry’s expression was skeptical, but sadly, he couldn’t think of a better idea.

“You think there’s something there?” Walking over to the window, Harry gazed unseeingly out towards the Black Lake. “Maybe...”

“Maybe what?”

“Maybe that was why Dumbledore had Lucius Malfoy take an unbreakable vow. He obliviated Fudge, and the Death Eaters that were there.” Harry turned, his face paling in sudden horrified realization. “He gave Aunt Muriel his memory, but he wasn’t happy about doing it.”

Theo was taken aback at the thought that Dumbledore had obliviated a Minister for Magic, but all he could get out was, “Hermione let me watch hers and I gave it back to her afterwards.”

“She still has the pensieve you gave her for her birthday, right?”

Theo nodded.

“We need to get that memory from Muriel and compare the two of them,” Harry carried on, “maybe we can find something from there...something that we missed.”

Pausing, Theo shook his head in trepidation, knowing what he was about to suggest wouldn’t go over well with Potter at all.

“We need to tell Hermione and Draco. I know you have your reservations about him, but he needs to know what’s going on. This affects him too.”

By the mutinous scowl on Harry’s face, Theo figured the Boy who Lived didn’t exactly agree with him, so he said tentatively, “We should leave it up to Hermione, yeah?”

Harry instantly deflated and then nodded reluctantly. “Yeah, we should. I’ll talk to her about it tonight. She can probably go get it from Muriel tomorrow and we can meet in the Room of Requirement tomorrow night to watch the memories together.”

“Sounds good.”

“For what it’s worth, Theo?” Harry began slowly, “I wasn’t sure what to think about you when I found out you were Hermione’s family, but I can admit when I’m wrong. You’re an okay bloke and I know you care for her.”

“I do.” Theo smiled softly. “She’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I had pretty much given up on having a proper family. I love my Father, but he’s cold and aloof on a good day. Since Hermione’s come into our lives? Even my Dad has mellowed some. He smiles again and he’s been spending much of his free time with Aunt Muriel, keeping her company. I get the impression that she was left alone for much of the past fifteen years with no one to talk to. I think my Dad feels guilty about that, so he’s trying to make it up to her.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” Theo went and unwarded the room, and together they left—heading towards the Great Hall as it was almost lunchtime. “I think there’s a lot of that going around, actually.”

“Maybe, but what’s done is done and we can’t change it.”

“When did you get so philosophical, Harry?”

“I’ve always been that way...I’ve lost almost all my family, except Mione. She’s all I have left too. She has looked out for me when no one else did. Took care of me, listened to me and loved me for me...not the Chosen One—but just Harry. I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to her.”

“Me neither.”

“We are going to figure this out, Theo.”

“I know,” Theo gripped Harry’s shoulder in solidarity, “because I don’t even want to ponder the alternative if we don’t.”


	71. Are you Sure?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets the memory and Draco helps her to discover something important.

The next evening found Hermione at Fosgate Hall once again, having skipped out of Hogwarts in her animagus form. Muriel had just finished dinner with Thoros when the cry of Hermione’s Phoenix was heard coming from outside.

“_That girl!”_

Muriel shook her head in exasperation, as she and Thoros stood up together and made their way to the balcony off the library, where sure enough—Hermione was preening her feathers happily.

“Young lady!” Muriel tutted as she walked out of the French doors, with Thoros closely behind her. “What are you doing home?”

The indignant squawk had Muriel smirking and even Thoros chuckled in amusement as they both watched Hermione transform back into her normal self.

“Hello to you too, Grandmother.”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, young lady. Now explain why you are here?”

So Hermione did. 

She told her Grandmother the conversation she’d had with Harry from the night before, and Theo’s suggestion. Thoros was contemplative as he considered the request, while Muriel just seemed unsurprised.

“I was wondering how long it would take for one of you to ask me for that infernal memory.”

“He didn’t alter it, did he?”

“No, the old fool didn’t have time to do so. That was one of the reasons I asked for it in front of everyone that morning.”

“_Slytherin_..” Thoros coughed lightly, causing Muriel to give him a disgusted look.

“No need for sarcasm, dear.”

Theo’s father winked at both witches, and Hermione was amazed at how much lighter Thoros Nott appeared to be since her first introduction to him the previous summer.

“Can I please have the memory, Grandmother?”

“Wait here,” Muriel sighed, “I’ll only be a moment.”

When her Grandmother moved back inside and out of sight, Thoros just leant back against the balustrade, his expression filled with amused indulgence.

“You really do need to stop leaving school, Hermione. I understand this was important but I would imagine that Dumbledore’s familiar might be able to sense when you leave the wards and return.”

Blushing a bit, Hermione bowed her head sheepishly. “I hadn’t thought of that at all.”

“I’d expected as such.”

Tilting her head up to give Theo’s father her full attention, she inquired softly, “Has Theo told you he’s been seeing Luna Lovegood at school?”

Hermione guessed from Thoros shocked expression that Theo hadn’t told his Father that tidbit of information.

“Xenophilius daughter, yes?”

“Mmhmm,” she nodded, “she’s one of my best friends. Ravenclaw. Very sweet and intelligent. Theo could so much worse.”

“Would you be referring to Pansy Parkinson, dear?”

Scoffing, Hermione’s face turned up like she was smelling something foul which caused Thoros to throw his head back and guffaw in glee. When he was done, he grinned widely and said, “You looked _just_ like your Mother in that moment.”

“Really?”

“Oh, yes!” Thoros expression melted into fond remembrance. “I only knew Marlene cursorily, of course. When she was a young girl, her brother Marcus and she would often be found with the other children getting into mischief when the adults weren’t looking. Alice Brown and she were particularly close. Frank Longbottom was good friends with Edgar Bones as well as James Potter. They all grew up together.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Marlene held all her friends closely, from what I recall. But of all those she knew? Alice, James and Edgar were the closest, and she was fiercely protective of them.”

Hermione didn’t know how to respond, and she didn’t get a chance as her Grandmother returned with the vial that contained Dumbledore’s memory.

“Here you go, but remember to keep it safe somewhere.”

“I will. Thank you, Grandmother.”

Pocketing the memory into her robes, Hermione transformed into her Phoenix form and disapparated in a swirl of flames.

“Do you think they’ll find what they’re looking for?” Thoros queried while Muriel just stared out into the gardens with a small frown marring her features. “What is it?”

“I do believe that the children are on the right track.”

“And you know what that is?”

Lady Prewett’s blue eyes were calculating as she glanced up at Thoros with a smirk, but didn’t elaborate further, leaving the Nott Lord staring after her with a sinister grin on his face.

He’d forgotten how much he enjoyed Muriel’s machinations. 

She truly had been mis-sorted.

In the meantime, Hermione found herself back inside the Hogwarts wards as she flew towards the Astronomy parapet where Draco would be waiting. As she landed, she heard the cry of Fawkes in the distance and turning her feathered head, she watched as the bird moved closer—eventually landing next to her—hopping over and ruffling his feathers as he nuzzled against her happily.

He was looking a bit weathered, and Hermione realized as she watched him through her animagus form, that his aura was fading a bit. She’d read up on phoenixes and knew that as they got closer to their burn day, their aura would continue to fade exponentially.

Then she heard Draco’s amused chuckle.

“Should I be jealous, love?”

Pitching out a trilling rumble, Fawkes nuzzled her even more while Hermione just preened under the attention.

“I’m not going to be jealous of a bird, love...even if he is as handsome as Fawkes there.”

Dumbledore’s familiar did his own preening at the words, and Draco realized belatedly that the bird might be able to understand him. He tilted his head down thoughtfully at Fawkes, when a sudden burst of inspiration came to him.

“Fawkes, can you understand me?”

The bird cocked his head at a weird angle, then squawked...which Draco took as an affirmative. He then turned his full attention back to his witch and explained lowly, “Can you ask Fawkes if he knows about those items we were talking about?”

Hermione’s bird eyes widened and she started making all sorts of sounds, which Fawkes immediately responded to. After a few moments the bird flew away and Draco watched as Hermione morphed back into her human form and then immediately threw her arms around him, kissing him passionately.

Several moments passed before Draco broke the kiss reluctantly, lifting his head back slightly while his smirk was now fixed in place as he asked huskily, “What was that for, Princess?”

“For being a brilliant wizard!”

“So I take it Fawkes was able to confirm?”

Hermione nodded. “Dumbledore has the wand.”

“Shite! And the stone?”

“Fawkes didn’t know. He hasn’t seen anything of the sort, but he doesn’t exactly know what to look for either. If I can tell him what it possibly looks like, he said he’d keep an eye out for me.”

Draco picked up Hermione and twirled her around before setting her back down and kissing her soundly again. It was a while before they broke apart and made their way towards the Room of Requirement.

“So, you still haven’t told me why you went home or what we are doing with Theo and Harry.”

Pulling out the memory, Hermione explained to Draco what it was and how she’d gotten it.

He stared at it unseeingly for a moment, before his grey eyes lifted to hers and Hermione could see the several emotions running through them...

Shock, wonder...disbelief...uncertainty.

“Theo and Harry thought it might be a good idea to watch my memory and Dumbledore’s and see if we could note any thing of interest.”

Nodding slowly, Draco held out his hand for the memory vial as he swallowed emotively, his hand shaking slightly.

“You want me to watch this?”

Sighing, Hermione pulled Draco into an empty alcove and gently cupped his face within her hands.

“Do you not want to?”

“No!” He was quick to reassure. “I just...”

Hermione could see his expression close off and she sighed. “Draco, look at me.”

Bright grey eyes held her own blue ones as she smiled up at him with such trust and openness, it took Draco’s breath away.

“We are to be bonded, yes?”

“Yes.”

“I think it’s time you understand just what happened that night. Just what you’re getting yourself in for.”

Expression relaxing, Draco’s smug smirk made an appearance before he said playfully, “I know what I’m in for, love...”

Hermione just shook her head at him, but led him out of the alcove and down the seventh floor corridor to where tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy was located. Walking in front of the wall opposite three times, the door appeared and she pulled Draco inside with her...not surprised to see both Harry and Theo waiting impatiently.

“Did you get it?” Harry demanded and Draco held up the vial, his expression neutral as he nodded politely to Theo, who returned the gesture.

“If it’s alright, I think we should watch Dumbledore’s memory first?”

They all silently agreed, and Theo put the pensieve into the middle of the room and watched as Hermione waved her hand...enlarging it so they all could go into the memory together. She could feel Draco’s anticipation as he gripped her hand tightly within his and once the memory was placed into the basin—they all collectively took a deep breath and went headfirst back into the fateful night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who guessed about Fawkes...congratulations! Well done!


	72. Simply Awed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco finally learns just how powerful his witch really is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All credit for HP goes to J.K. For X-men Stan Lee...

As Draco felt himself being pulled into the memory...he could still feel Hermione’s hand holding him into a measure of reality, like an anchor. Once the fog cleared however, he stood there in shock as the first thing he saw was the Dark Lord, sneering hatefully...his hissed words flowing over him like a Merlin-awful weighted dread that he simply couldn’t get away from.

His body shivered uncontrollably, and then he felt his witch’s magic flow through him—calming him and reminding him that this wasn’t real.

It was just a memory after all...

“It was foolish of you to come here tonight, Tom. The Aurors are on there way.”

“By which time I shall be gone and you...” Voldemort waved his wand down in a mock bow, “shall be _dead_.”

Both wizards swirled their wands in an arc and Draco watched as Potter was flung to the side by the Headmaster, while Bellatrix was knocked unconscious against the wall, the floo grate locked—preventing her escape.

The explosion of raw magical power as Dumbledore and Voldemort fought was simply... _unbelievable_. As their spells collided with ferocious intensity, the concussive force caused sparks to fly in all directions. The Dark Lord kept trying to redirect Dumbledore’s power at Potter, causing the mortar of the Ministry atrium wall, to crack and break around the younger wizard’s head—who was valiantly ducking out of the way as best as he could to avoid being collateral damage.

Then for a split second when it seemed as if Dumbledore was getting the upper hand, the Dark Lord took the older wizard’s power and morphed it into a raging ball of a flaming snake inferno—redirecting the spell back towards Dumbledore—his mad cackle reverberating loudly throughout the Ministry atrium.

As the fire snake struck down to attack, Dumbledore slashed his wand through the air, cutting the snake apart and redirecting the spell back towards the Dark Lord, who made a slashing motion of his own...and the flames disappeared.

Then Dumbledore twirled his wand, and the water from the _Fountain of Magical Brethren_ encased Voldemort within the spell. Draco continued to watch in awe, as the Headmaster used the power of the Elder Wand, to keep the Dark Lord at bay.

Unfortunately, Potter decided at that moment to get up, which broke Dumbledore’s concentration long enough for the Dark Lord to escape from the spell.

Then with all his power, Voldemort shot another nonverbal spell right at the Headmaster, which he blocked and redirected back...causing the Dark Lord to use all his strength to shield himself from the magic—and when he extended his arms out—_screaming_...the force of which caused a percussion of magic throughout the atrium as all the glass shattered instantly, while also knocking Dumbledore off his feet.

Draco gasped, clutching his free hand to his chest in shock...but it wasn’t over, for at that moment—the Dark Lord levitated all the glass shards and directed them right back towards the Headmaster who managed to create some kind of shield just in time to turn the glass to ash.

As the dust cleared, the Dark Lord looked disappointed that his trick hadn’t worked and as Dumbledore stood up to face off his quarry once again, a cloud of dust and vapor moved over Voldemort like a wind funnel, and the wizard disappeared instantly.

A few seconds later Potter started to convulse on the ground.

At that moment, several Order members come out into the Ministry's Atrium with what Draco noticed was his Father, and several of the other Death Eaters in tow, magically bound and silenced. The floo's started to come to life as the Minister for Magic and several Aurors entered the atrium, clearly astonished by the scene. Bellatrix, who had regained consciousness and had been cackling at the carnage, was quickly bound and silenced as all present watched the boy who lived writhe on the floor...not understanding at all what was happening.

“You’ve _lost_ old man.” Potter taunted in Voldemort’s voice, the boy’s eyes red and face pale as he struggled with the Dark Lord, who was now inside of the young wizard’s mind and body.

“Harry...”

Potter twisted and cried out in agony as he desperately tried to fight off the Dark Lord, and Draco watched in begrudgingly admiration as the Boy Who Lived—fought with everything he had.

“Harry, it isn’t how you are alike....it’s how you’re _not_.” Dumbledore whispered lowly.

Dumbledore knelt down next to Potter, while he continued to struggle with the Dark Lord’s invasion.

"It's over, Harry, you're finished...you’re _mine_ now.” Potter’s voice, which was mixed with the Dark Lord’s—reverberated within the memory.

Potter struggling, said aloud on a gasp in his own voice. "You...will _never_ win."

"And why is that?"

"Because you're alone...and I...am..._not_."

As soon as Potter finished those words, a portal opened in the atrium to the astonishment of all who were there. 

Draco was awed by whom exactly was powerful enough to break through the Ministry wards like they were nothing. Hermione walked through the portal, eyes glowing like lightening and her aura radiating a blinding power, and Draco noticed Dolohov squirming against his bonds, but Lupin grabbed onto the Russian tightly and snarled deeply in warning.

As soon as Hermione cleared the portal, she stood there...dressed in the same dragonhide outfit that Draco remembered seeing her in that night when she’d returned to the school—appearance changed. There seemed to be several moments where she stared at Potter, and Draco recognized that look—it was the one she had when she communicated telepathically...she was inside Potter’s mind.

Then Draco heard Potter speak...

"Let..._go_...

...unleash your power Mi...no fear." Potter pleaded.

Draco saw Hermione gazing first towards Dumbledore—before then she took in the startled faces of the witches and wizards all staring at her and she breathed out a heavy sigh. Moving her hands outward, her magic glowed and encased both herself, Potter and Dumbledore as everyone gasped in astonishment at her display of power. 

Once the barrier was placed...Hermione's eyes glowed white and Draco watched dumbfounded, she levitated above everyone...and as her power continued to swell—additional smaller portals opened in the air between herself and Potter...showing four items floating in the ether.

A locket, a cup, a tiara and a ring.

Potter then looked up and flinched in pain, obviously trying to hold off Voldemort and screamed loudly... "**unleash your power!** Let go, Mi! Mi, let _go!"_

Then Draco saw Hermione pull her arms outward from her body and with a high-pitched scream...a _Phoenix_ cry—her aura exploded outward into raw elemental flames, the force of which...was simply astonishing and something even in his wildest imagination...he’d been woefully unprepared for.

So Draco just gaped up at his witch completely stunned, because there was simply no words...

_He’d had no clue..._

Potter’s body then arched off the ground...his back bowed at an impossible angle...and suddenly, Voldemort was thrust from Potter’s body and suspended into the air...his rage palpable as he screamed in horror—watching the cup, tiara, ring and locket—being destroyed to ash by the elemental power of his witch.

Potter’s body then slumped, and surprisingly Dumbledore encased them both into a protective bubble...shielding them from the pressurized heat emanating from within the magical enclosure.

Voldemort—enraged and vengeful, started firing off hexes and curses, one more powerful than the next at Hermione, but her aura simply couldn’t be breached. 

Then in a display of his own heady power, Voldemort pointed his wand and a steady stream of magic was unleashed...the Dark Lord desperate to break the hold Hermione had on him as his body continued to be frozen in place—suspended in mid-air.

When he realized that he couldn't break away, the Dark Lord enclosed his own protective barrier around his body, desperately trying to shield himself and possibly apparate away.

Then Draco heard Lupin mumble, "He's getting away."

Dolohov’s chuckle followed by Bellatrix’s mad cackle, as they watched their master's attempt to escape, made Draco flinch. 

Then there were several gasps from all who were standing outside the barrier before Hermione's eyes whitened again, and her core flashed white as streaks of lightening attacked Voldemort's shield, bringing it down instantly and her Phoenix cry echoed throughout the halls of the Ministry...causing Voldemort's wand to burn to ash.

Draco then noticed Dumbledore nod once, holding Potter—who was still unconscious in his arms before he said lowly, "_All is revealed."_

Draco didn’t have time to process that comment as the Phoenix cry was heard again, and Hermione's aura expanded in power...twice as large as before. Voldemort's panicked screams reverberated throughout the atrium, as his corporeal body turned to ash—being bombarded by the elemental fire of the Phoenix.

When the Dark Lord was completely vanquished and the battle won, Draco saw Hermione's power began to fade until she was standing there, elevated...a large sigh emanating from her mouth.

Her appearance was now changed and hair was a long auburn red and her eyes were a piercing blue. She lowered herself down to the ground, and instantly vanished the barrier surrounding Potter and Dumbledore—as everyone present watched with expressions that ranged from fury, fear, awe and wonder.

"Harry." Hermione whispered, gently touching her best friend's face.

"Miss Granger," Dumbledore nodded, "that was most impressive. I take it your magic is no longer unstable."

"No, sir." Hermione sighed, looking up at all the faces that were watching the scene closely.

Then Cornelius Fudge took that moment to come forward and assert himself.

"Dumbledore, what is the meaning of this?"

"Perhaps we might table this discussion for a more appropriate time, Cornelius."

Fudge's face started to turn red. "I don't think you have the right to make that call, Dumbledore. And perhaps you might explain Miss Granger's sudden display of power?"

Draco smirked when Hermione rolled her eyes, and Potter...who was now fully awake...smiled softly at his sister.

Helping Harry to his feet, Hermione took a step back as she said disdainfully, "Perhaps it might be best to worry about getting the Death Eaters back in Azkaban...where they _belong_."

It was at that moment, Draco noticed Bellatrix escape her bonds and grabbed for her wand...pointing it directly at Hermione and Potter—but before she could finish shouting _Avada Kedavra._..Hermione's hand swept out and in a burst of flame, his aunt was turned to ash.

Fudge gaped at the young witch apoplectically and then made a motion for the Aurors to come and take her, but Hermione flexed her hand and froze everyone in the room.

Draco chuckled as she glared spitefully at the Minister and snarled, “This is all _your_ fault, you pathetic idiotic man! You allowed Lucius Malfoy to manipulate you, allowed Delores Umbridge to torture students at Hogwarts...when I'm done with you? You’ll be lucky not to end up in Azkaban yourself."

Then Draco saw Hermione hold Potter close to her body, and in a flash of white heat...they were gone.

When they were finally pulled from the memory, both Harry and Draco sat down on the floor, each eyeing the other completely stunned, when a sudden thought entered Draco’s mind.

“You haven’t seen the memory before now?”

Harry shook his head. “I wasn’t ready until now. My Godfather died that night because of me,” green eyes looked up at Hermione with a sad expression, “Hermione begged me not to go. Said it might be a trap, but I didn’t listen to her.”

Theo had the room conjured some chairs so they could all get a bit more comfortable, so Draco pulled his witch into his lap and nuzzled his face into her neck...trying to calm his racing heart from the memory he’d just witnessed.

“You okay?” She whispered and he shrugged, words failing him at the moment.

“It’s a lot to process.” Harry spoke up, and saw Draco’s head bobbing in the affirmative, but his face was still obscured by Hermione’s hair...though Harry and Theo did notice that Draco had a death grip around Hermione’s waist and he seemed to be desperately trying to get his emotions under control.

“Did anyone notice anything?” Harry asked and Theo, who had already seen Hermione’s memory, and therefore wasn’t quite as surprised by the event, had been closely watching not only Dumbledore, but Potter as well.

“I heard Dumbledore’s words when Hermione vanquished the Dark Lord.”

Draco lifted his head and replied, “All is revealed.”

Theo nodded. “He knew. He’s _always_ known.”

“Okay,” Harry rubbed his hands down his face while Hermione gazed into Draco’s eyes and he sighed.

“Fawkes confirmed tonight that Dumbledore has the wand.”

Both Theo and Potter paled, and Draco rolled his eyes when Harry took off his glasses and made a show of cleaning them off as he absently rubbed his scar.

“And the stone?” Potter asked quietly, and Theo got a funny look on his face.

“Those items?”

“The horcruxes?” Hermione asked and Theo nodded.

“There was a ring.”

“I vaguely remember the ring,” Harry’s voice trembled slightly. “Didn’t think much of it, other than it was a horcrux.”

“It had a stone in it though.”

All eyes turned to Theo, who shrugged. “It might be nothing? But then again?”

“It might not.”

“Okay,” Draco piped in, feeling a bit more like himself, “let’s assume for a moment it is? Wouldn’t it have been turned to ash?”

“Maybe not,” Theo replied, “it’s very possible the Hallows can’t be destroyed.”

“So if it wasn’t destroyed?”

“Then it would be somewhere on the floor within that enclosure that Hermione erected.” Theo finished with a firm nod.

All four smiled widely at each other and despite feeling emotionally spent, dove headfirst back into the memory for a second time and sure enough Draco, as he watched the memory the second time, noticed Dumbledore’s gaze when the horcruxes were turned to ash—his eyes drawn to a small black stone on the atrium floor—the old wizard’s gaze locked on it briefly, before his attention was drawn back to Hermione.

Slowly, Draco walked over to the stone and picked it up in his hand, his eye drawn to the same runic symbol on the stone, that was on the letter that Dumbledore had written to Grindelwald.

When he was pulled out of the memory, his face fell as he told his witch...

“He has the stone.”

Three pairs of eyes widened in shock, and Theo read his mind as he bit out angrily, “Fuck!”

_Yeah...they were fucked!_


	73. Gift of Fidelity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco offers his Gift to his witch.

It wasn’t too much later when Harry and Theo left the Room of Requirement, leaving Hermione and Draco alone. Theo wasn’t too thrilled with the thought, but for once in his annoying existence, Potter actually grabbed Theo by the shoulder and forcibly directed him out of the room, explaining that he was being ridiculous and needed to trust in Hermione more.

His sister smiled at him widely, mouthing ‘_love you, Brother Mine’ _while Harry winked, then pointed two fingers at his eyes, before turning them on Malfoy...the inference ‘_I’ll be watching you’_ was clear.

Draco just gave Potter the finger, causing Hermione to gasp and smack him on the chest with impunity.

“Seriously, Draco?”

The blonde smirked as he rubbed his chest with exaggeration.

“Vicious witch!”

Draco’s smirk fell into a more thoughtful expression as he cupped Hermione’s cheeks in his hands and tilted her head up slightly so they could make eye contact.

Then she felt him slide easily into her mind.

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

Her inner voice was always a bit more husky when she talked to her wizard this way.

Sharing their minds like this?

It was so much more intimate.

“Are you truly alright?” Hermione silently beseeched, and Draco could feel her anxiety and fear.

“I’m still processing and frankly? I’m in awe of you. But...”

“But what?”

Hermione heard Draco’s internal sigh, and she could feel him struggle to get his thoughts more focused.

“After seeing you, in all your glory? I can’t help but wonder why your magic would’ve chosen _me_.”

Shock wavered through Hermione, as she wasn’t sure she was hearing her wizard correctly.

“Are you trying to tell me, Draco Malfoy, that you don’t think you’re up to the task of being my bonded?”

His internal scoff was to be expected, and she could almost feel his eye roll.

“No..” he quickly clarified, his voice haughty... “we both know I’m an _exceptionally_ gifted wizard.”

Her silent laughter couldn’t be helped, as she could hear the old Malfoy pompousness dripping from his thoughts.

“Prat.”

“Yes, love...” there was a brief pause before Draco continued. “But seriously, Princess? You are more powerful than any witch who’s probably ever lived and I’m just the lucky sod who gets to be with you. I was having a hard enough time wrapping my mind around it seeing your powers from before, but now that I know the truth?”

Hermione felt Draco’s shiver, and she allowed her calm and surety to flow over his mind like a warm blanket.

“Draco, we both know you’re an exceptionally gifted Occlumens and if Severus is to be believed, one of the most talented he’s _ever_ known. Your ability to control your emotions, your magic—even now...and you’re not yet of age? I can only imagine how much more formidable you’ll be when you are. I wasn’t ready to acknowledge it for the longest time, because you’ve always been more challenging to me then I’ve ever willingly admitted when we were younger. You’re so smart, that sometimes it astounds me how easily it all comes for you. As we’ve spent quality time together this year, I’ve had to wonder why you’re not top of our class...I know it’s not for lack of ability?”

Draco’s mind quieted as he thought about the question, and Hermione could feel his heavy sigh of resignation before he spoke up quietly into her mind.

“Did it never occur to you, love? That perhaps some of our Professors don’t treat all their students, unbiasedly?”

“What do you mean?”

“We both know Severus favors Slytherin’s, it’s true. But I’ve earned my top spot every year, because Severus would never allow any student to get away with even a hint of mediocrity. I’ve always been better in Defense, but as for the other subjects? You and I have been separated on many an occasion, by a few points here and there. While I’ll admit, you do put forth far more effort into your assignments than I do, it doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re smarter than me. Or vice versa.”

The last words were tagged on a bit belatedly, but Hermione had to give Draco his due.

He wasn’t necessarily wrong in what he was saying.

“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a prat, our Professor’s would’ve liked you better.”

His deep chuckle filled her with butterflies, but all he said was, “Touché, love.”

“Well, if you’re going to make me concede that you’re actually smarter than me, then you’ll at least have to concede that I’m way more powerful than you.” Hermione quipped and Draco’s chuckled turned into full blown laughter as he broke eye contact and threw his head back in glee.

When his gazed locked back with her’s, Hermione could see the warm affection emanating from those stormy grey depths.

And her heart stuttered with an emotion she wasn’t prepared for.

Noticing her facial expression, Draco cocked his head to the side as he inquired, “What is it?”

Thankful that their connection had been severed before that earth-shattering revelation, Hermione just shook her head.

“It’s nothing.” Then she grinned mischievously. “Wanna snog?”

The quirked eyebrow let her know that Draco wasn’t wholly convinced of her assertion that nothing was wrong, but to her wizard’s credit, he wasn’t about to turn down a golden opportunity for a good snog.

His left hand moved up behind the back of her head, fisting in her hair as his right hand cupped her cheek and when his lips came down onto hers, Hermione hummed with need as she gripped her hands into Draco’s baby fine hair and returned his ardor with equal veracity.

Then suddenly, Hermione felt something shift behind and underneath her as Draco moved over her, cradling her into his body as he continued to kiss her like his life depended upon it. Once her back hit the softness of what felt to be a bed, she broke away from the kiss with a gasp, and gazed up into darkened slate eyes that were staring back at her with want.

“Is this too much?” Draco whispered, not wanting to break the fragile moment, and watched as Hermione bit her lower lip but her blue eyes seemed to be reflecting the passion of his own emotions.

“No.” She replied softly, “I’ve never felt like this.”

“Me either.”

A smile and a simple nod was all he got, before his little vixen pulled his mouth back down to her’s and then it was all tongue, teeth and hands.

Somehow she’d gotten him out of his jumper, and the top three buttons of his dress shirt were opened. Her jumper was lost somewhere on the floor, as was her blouse...and greedy hands were cupping two perfect mounds of flesh before his mouth descended, following his hands.

When his mouth latched onto a nipple through the laced bra, Hermione’s breathy whine of his given name, had him readjusting his lower body to settle himself between the junction of her thighs—groaning as he nudged his erection forward...trying to get some relief where he needed it most.

His body...it felt hot everywhere. His hands, torso...his magic...

His _heart_...

Breaking contact to get some much needed oxygen, Draco stared down into heavy lidded eyes that looked back at him with such desire and unwavering trust.

Cupping his witch’s face gently, he placed a tender kiss on her lips and said sincerely, “Yours is the light by which my spirit is born: _you are my sun, my moon, and all my stars.”_

“Draco...”

Taking several deep breaths, Draco had the room conjure a blanket and covered Hermione’s torso...pulling her up into a straddling position so their faces were eye level.

This night, she’d bared herself to him emotionally and had allowed him so see her in a way in which he wasn’t sure he’d deserved, but was eternally grateful for nonetheless. He’d known, for weeks now what his _Gift of Fidelity_ would need to be.

Draco knew that for _his_ witch, she would deserve nothing less from him.

“Hermione Marlene Prewett, will you willingly accept my _Gift of Fidelity_ now and always?”

Wide-eyed, Hermione just stared at him mutely for several minutes until Draco chuckled and said softly, “You need to say the words, love.”

“Oh!” She nodded emphatically. “I, Hermione Marlene Prewett, accept your Gift of Fidelity willingly and humbly.”

Draco retuned the gesture and placed his hands on either side of her face, making eye contact once again and Hermione felt him slide effortlessly into her mind.

The scene shifted briefly, until they were back at the room where the single door hovered in the center of the vacant space. Looking around in confusion, Hermione suddenly saw a book appear on the floor and walking over, she bent down and picked it up, smiling widely when she noticed the title.

“_Hogwarts a History.”_

She felt Draco’s answering mirth, but didn’t dwell on it as she opened the cover and flipped through the pages...noticing they were all blank.

“I don’t understand?”

“You do,” his lazy drawl reverberated through her mind, “you know how to find the key.”

Hermione thought for a moment, unsure why Draco would tell her ‘_how_’ and not where.

Then she chuckled as she said impishly, “_Draco Dormiens Nunquam Titillandus"_ and once the last word left her mouth, a small box appeared in the far corner of the room. Walking over, she picked it up and opened it.

Inside was a silver skeleton key, which obviously fit the lock to the door.

As she went back to the threshold of the barrier between the void and what lay beyond, she asked, “What is it you wish to show me?”

There was a heartbeat of utter, deafening silence before Draco’s voice—which was filled with such raw emotion—said simply, “_Everything_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone guess?


	74. All That I Am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco shares his memories with Hermione.

Placing the key into the door-lock, Hermione was surprised when she walked into the room beyond and there was at first nothing...and then a memory started to coalesce into being. 

She didn’t recognize the room at all, and she looked around seeing several bookshelves on the far side of the circular room in the back, and then her gaze caught on a small boy sitting by himself of the floor of the room and she smiled softly.

It was Draco and he looked to be around eight or nine years of age. He was playing with a miniature Quidditch set and then she heard a door open and when she looked back towards the sound...she saw a man move into the room who looked an awful lot like Lucius Malfoy, only shorter hair and much older.

“Draco,” the deep voice called, and Hermione turned back towards her intended and could see his wide grey eyes glittering with an emotion she couldn’t readily define. “There you are.”

“Grandfather.”

Hermione held her breath in as she suddenly realized just whom this man was...

_Abraxas Malfoy._

“What have I said about leaving your lessons early? How are you supposed to learn anything and be the top of your class at Durmstrang, if you don’t take it more seriously?” Abraxas paused and then set down on the chair next to the place where Draco was sitting on the floor.

“Quidditch?”

“Yes, Sir.”

Abraxas chuckled deeply, and picked up the toy piece that looked to be the Seeker. 

“I played in school, you know? I was a Chaser though.”

“Really?” Bright grey eyes smiled up at his Grandfather, and Abraxas nodded.

“Oh, yes! Although my own Father wasn’t pleased with my love of sport. He thought my studies should’ve taken precedence, but...I had more important duties to attend to whilst I was at school.”

“Like what?”

A cloud moved over Abraxas face and he than gestured for Draco to sit up and take a spot next to him on the couch.

“Perhaps it is _time_ for you to understand some of the truths of our family and your birthright.” 

Hermione watched in horror, as Draco’s grandfather rolled up his left sleeve and showed his grandson the Dark Mark on his forearm.

“What is that?”

“That, Draco? Is the Mark of _Our Lord_. It is very important you keep what I’m about to tell you private.”

Draco nodded emphatically and scooted closer to his Grandfather, grey eyes alight with curiosity.

“I promise, Sir.”

“Good boy.” Abraxas patted Draco’s head affectionately and Hermione felt her stomach plummet at how eager Draco looked in that moment. “This Mark, represents our family’s pledge to remain pure always. Out family motto..”

“_Sanctimonia Vincet Semper”_

“Very good, Draco,” Abraxas replied with an easy smile, “_purity will always conquer._ You see, it has been this way for our family for centuries. When I was in school at Hogwarts, I swore this family’s allegiance to a powerful wizard who was Heir to Salazar Slytherin himself! He vowed to rid the magical world from the filth that has plagued it for far too long.”

“Mudbloods.”

“Yes!” Abraxas chuckled again, his expression filled with pride and it made Hermione want to scream at how easily influenced Draco had been at such a young age. But she supposed teaching him in such a way, was far more insidious than beating the prejudice into him. “There are those who feel that mudbloods have a place in our great society. That they belong here, same as we do.”

Hermione noticed little Draco’s face scrunch up as he stared down at his Grandfather’s Dark Mark. 

“Why do they have magic, Grandfather?”

“Because, Draco, they steal it.”

“How?”

Hermione noticed a severe look flash over the Malfoy Patriarch’s face, but it was gone before she blinked. 

However, all he said was, “Sadly, no one knows for sure. That’s what makes them so dangerous Draco and why your Father and I are adamant that you should attend Durmstrang. They do not allow mudbloods into their school, so you will _never_ be forced to learn alongside one.”

Draco nodded then cocked his head at his grandfather and asked, “What happened to the Great wizard who’s Mark this is?”

Abraxas scowled, his voice filled with righteous anger, “He has disappeared for a time. But when he returns, you will be expected to fulfill our family pledge to take his Mark, just as your Father and I have done. It is your destiny, Draco.”

The small, pointed face of an innocent Draco gazed up at his Grandfather with all due seriousness and he nodded, “I understand, Sir.”

Abraxas patted Draco on the head and then the door opened, revealing a younger Lucius Malfoy as he sauntered into the room, his eyes fixating on his Father’s exposed left forearm, and his expression was unreadable.

“Father.”

“Lucius, I was just having a chat with Draco here. Impressing upon him the importance of family honor and tradition.”

The small quirk of Lucius Malfoy’s lips didn’t distract Hermione from the brief flash of sadness in his eyes but all he said was, “I think Draco has a few more years before he needs to worry about being saddled with such expectation.”

Abraxas stood and glowered in ire, “Nonsense, Lucius! He is _my_ Grandson and Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy. It is vital for him to understand what he needs to do and what will be expected of him.”

Lucius bowed his head and replied evenly, “Of course, Father.”

The mist swirled away and Hermione only had a moment to compose herself before another door appeared. Stoically, she moved forward and took her key putting it into the lock and opening the door, walking into another antechamber that was temporarily empty until another memory swirled into view.

  
  


This time they were back in Lucius study, and Hermione noticed Narcissa, Abraxas and Lucius sitting in the room with Draco—who looked upset.

Abraxas was behind the desk, whilst Lucius was sitting on the couch with his son...but it was Narcissa who was pacing in front of the floo...her expression thunderous.

“How could you, Lucius!” She hissed in anger, and her magic crackled with rage. “Did you not even think to _consult_ me?”

“Darling...”

“Don’t you darling me, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy!”

“Narcissa!” Abraxas deep voice thundered throughout the room, as he could see Draco was starting to become visibly distraught over his Mother’s emotional display.

“This was _your_ idea!” Narcissa’s blonde hair whirled around as she pointed her finger at the Malfoy Patriarch. “You mean to send my son _away!”_

“Narcissa,” Abraxas cajoled, “you know that Hogwarts, as much as we all wish it were different—is simply _not_ the place in which Draco would be able to learn the things he will need to fulfill his destiny.”

“Severus is at Hogwarts!” Narcissa glared mutinously at her Father-in-law, and in that moment, Hermione could feel Draco’s admiration and adoration for his mother. “You mean to send him to a place where he will have no protection! _None!” _Her voice was shrill, her magic now filling the room, and both Lucius and Abraxas glanced at each other warily. “_You will not take my son from me! He will go to Hogwarts and that is final and if either one of you think to go against my wishes, I will make you suffer! Just as I have suffered!”_

Hermione could see Lucius Malfoy’s expression fall, as he gazed as his own Father—his silver eyes pleading.

“Narcissa, I know the last few years have been difficult and I wish I could make this better for you.”

“By taking my son away!” She sobbed, her grey eyes full of tears.

Draco gazed up at his Father, his own bright eyes—so similar to his mother—begging Lucius to do something.

And Hermione could feel Draco’s sorrow.

“No one is going to take your son away, my love.”

“Lucius..”

The younger Malfoy Lord, turned to his father and hissed in warning.

“No! I have _always_ done as you’ve asked, Father but not this time! If it will give Cissy a level of comfort to know Draco is close at hand, then I will hear no more on the subject.”

“You would disobey me?”

Lucius stood and moved over...placing his palms on his Father’s desk as he growled out, “Draco is _my_ son. This is _my_ decision.”

“It looks to be your wife’s decision.”

“It is _done_.”

Hermione saw Narcissa’s sob of relief as she went over to her son and cuddled him into her side and then stood with Draco, but as she went to leave the room a harsh voice stopped both she, Draco and Lucius cold.

“This is a grievous mistake, Son.” Abraxas scoffed in open disdain, but Lucius just eyed his Father speculatively before he replied frostily, “Draco is a Malfoy, and he will do just fine.”

  
  


The memory faded and another door appeared, which Hermione opened immediately and walked through.

This time, she was at Hogwarts...and she could see herself walking away with Harry and Ron...the latter vomiting up slugs.

It was obvious this was after the incident where Draco had called her mudblood for the first time.

“Well done, Malfoy!” Marcus Flint patted him on the back while the other Slytherin Quidditch team members all chuckled.

Except Adrian, who was scowling.

“Whatever,” Draco shrugged with an eye roll, “serves her right though for thinking I bought my way onto the team.”

“Well,” Graham Montague chortled, “you sure put the swot into her proper place.”

Draco nodded, and followed his teammates out to the pitch, but Hermione could see his expression was closed off.

Now that she had spent some time getting to know Draco, she _knew_ that look.

He was compartmentalizing his emotions.

She watched the Quidditch Practice, and noticed Draco didn’t seem to be enjoying himself quite as much as he normally did and once it was over—the memory followed Draco into the locker room where he was sitting by himself, his new broom in his hand as he polished it with his broom polish.

Then a voice cleared next to him and he looked up to see Pucey standing there considering him.

“You have something to say, Adrian?”

The older wizard sat down on the Quidditch bench and just considered him for a few moments with his deep brown eyes before he eventually spoke up.

“Do you _feel_ better?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean,” Adrian shook his head at Draco, clearly not buying his pretense at acting bewildered. “Did it make you feel better calling Granger _that_ name?”

Draco shrugged, as he set his broom down. “She’s annoying. Walks around this place like she knows everything. It was about time someone reminded her of her place.”

Hermione noticed Adrian’s expression morph to something she couldn’t define, but all he said was, “Whatever our feelings on blood purity, Draco, it doesn’t give you a right to be such a tosser.”

“Piss off, Pucey, if I didn’t know any better, I’d swear you were a mudblood lover.”

“Grow up, Malfoy.” Adrian scoffed, “I may subscribe to certain truths on magical purity, but I would never be so crass as to use that word in public—especially not to a witch.”

Draco watched the older wizard grab his broom and exit the locker room, leaving him alone.

He then ran his hands through his blond locks, his expressions stricken as he murmured out angrily, “_Shite!”_

  
  


As the memory faded, Hermione could feel Draco’s regret, but seeing another door reappear, she didn’t waste any time pondering the particulars as she made her way through the next door.

The memory swirled into existence as they others had been, and this time she was at the Yule Ball, walking in with Viktor—her smile beaming brightly. She spent the entirety of the memory watching that night from Draco’s perspective and it wasn’t so much the memory itself, but the emotions tied to it that she could feel.

Surprise, awe, anger, shame, regret and surprisingly..._desire_.

As she and Viktor danced, and the night wore on it was more of the same until the moment where she went to sit next to Harry and Ron.

“Hot, isn’t a it? Viktor’s gone to get drinks, would you care to join us?”

“No, we would not care to join you and Viktor.”

Harry just glanced at Ron like he’d grown two heads.

“What’s got your wand in a knot?”

“He’s a Durmstrang, you’re fraternizing with the enemy.”

“The _enemy?_” Hermione scoffed in disgust. “Who was it wanting his autograph? Besides the whole point of the tournament is International Magical Cooperation! To make _friends!”_

“Huh, I think he’s got a bit more than friendship on his mind.”

Ron sat back and pouted, while Harry just sat there like a bump on a log, clearly not wanting to be in the middle of another disagreement between his two best friends.

Hermione stood up and turned around, clearly distraught and started to walk away before she stomped back and went to say something, but thought better of it as she walked away for good.

It was later when she and Ron got into their final argument, and she was left crying on the stairs...that she realized that Draco had witnessed the entire exchanges that night but she didn’t remember seeing him at all beyond the beginning of the evening.

Then the memory moved on from her sitting on the steps, to Draco following Ron down the hallway of the second corridor.

“Nicely _done_, Weaselbee.”

Ron turned around and scowled at Draco, who was now leaning against the wall with a satisfied smirk on his face.

“What are you on about, Malfoy?”

“Oh, nothing,” Draco looked down at his hand with interest, before he stood up and straightened his dress robes, sauntering towards Ron with a wicked gleam behind his eyes. “I just wonder at your level of intelligence is all?”

“Piss off, Malfoy!”

Draco’s chuckling could be heard as the memory faded.

  
  


Another door appeared, and another memory flitted into view. This one was back in Lucius Malfoy’s study, and Draco was sitting on the same sofa he had been before with his mother, while Lucius was behind the desk...looking upset.

“Are you sure, Lucius, that this is the wisest idea?”

“It’s not as if I have a choice in the matter, Cissy...Father has insisted this be done now. I am going to take Draco with me to Borgin and Burke’s to get rid of these items.”

“And the diary?”

“I have no idea as of yet.” Lucius drawled, and Hermione could see the unhappy look on Draco’s face. “Perhaps if Draco hadn’t managed to come in second last year to a mudblood, Father wouldn’t be insisting upon this course of action. But he _is_, and therefore, I will need to comply.”

Narcissa nodded, as she gripped Draco’s hand...and Hermione could feel his shame and anger.

Had it really been Abraxas Malfoy who had been ultimately responsible for the Basilisk being unleashed at Hogwarts?

“Come along, Draco.” Lucius stood and Draco followed reluctantly, giving his mother a small weary smile as he followed his Father through the floo.

  
  


Another door, and another memory followed...then another...and another—each more revealing than the last until the final door appeared, and Hermione was emotionally spent.

Somehow, she almost knew what would be waiting beyond the next threshold.

“_Gently_, my Dragon.”

Happy grey eyes lifted and he nodded seriously, allowing Narcissa to help him readjust his hold on his sister. “Her name is Cassiopeia.”

Hermione smiled at how adorably Draco’s mouth tried to form the name.

“That’s a _mouthful_.” He complained haughtily and Lucius chuckled as he sat down next to his son, gazing over his shoulder at the sweet baby girl in his son’s arms.

“How about Cassie, then?”

“Cassie!” Draco nodded, and the baby gurgled, her silver eyes staring up at her brother in wonder. “Okay.” Rocking the baby carefully, Draco said gently, “I promise to be the best big brother ever and protect you, Cassie.”

“We know you will, my Dragon. Your sister couldn’t be luckier to have anyone but you for a big brother.”

Draco’s chest puffed out in pride as he kissed his baby sister’s forehead, and Hermione’s heart melted at how sweet and loving Draco appeared in that moment.

When the memory readjusted, she found herself in a beautifully appointed room, except it wasn’t a typical room at all but a nursery done up in simple pastels of green, pink and yellow. It was bright and cheerful except for the little boy sitting on the floor and sobbing his heart out whilst holding a small stuffed dragon to his chest.

There was a House Elf sitting there next to Draco...not touching him at all...just watching him as huge glistening tears fell down on pale chubby cheeks.

When the door opened, it was Lucius who was standing there, his own expression clearly pained.

“Draco, how did you get in here again?”

Teary grey eyes turned towards his Father, and Hermione saw in that moment—Lucius Malfoy’s entire body sag with emotion.

“Draco,” he came over slowly, almost wary of approaching his son. “You need to allow Tinky to do her job and clear the room.”

“_No!”_ There was a sniffle after the screamed word as Hermione saw Draco’s hands clench and the several books fell off the shelve and two figurines shattered from the force of his accidental magic. “I don’t wanna go! I want _my_ Cassie!”

“_Son_...” Lucius swallowed, as he reached for Draco who just scooted further away from his father stubbornly.

“I promised! _I promised I’d take care of her!”_

Lucius sat there, as he valiantly tried to get ahold of his own emotions, but Hermione was dumbstruck as she saw several tears fall from the older wizard’s eyes.

She didn’t think Lucius Malfoy was capable of that kind of emotion.

“I know, Son. And I’m _sorry_.”

Hermione watched as young Draco broke down in heaving sobs, finally allowing his Father to hold him as he cried and cried for his little sister and Hermione could feel Draco’s utter heartbreak and sorrow.

  
  


When the final memory faded, Hermione turned around the way she’d come and saw a line of several doorways in succession that had been opened by her. 

Instinctively, knowing what she needed to do, she walked back through each threshold and locked the doors one by one until she reached the final door. 

Once it too, was locked, she took the key and placed it back into its box and watched as it vanished silently.

Returning to herself, Hermione felt the wetness on her cheeks and immediately noticed Draco’s tears—and all she could do was conjure a handkerchief and wipe them away lovingly. No words were necessary at that moment, but Hermione knew deep down that they were needed.

“Thank you, for sharing that with me. I will always hold your trust sacred, Draco. I hope you know that.”

“I do, love. I wouldn’t have shown you otherwise.”

“I’m sorry about your sister.”

Bowing his head, Hermione could see Draco’s throat bobbing with emotion.

“_Thank you._” He croaked out on a pained whisper.

Their eyes met and locked again and Hermione cupped his face and placed a sweet kiss on his lips, which he responded to chastely. When she pulled back, she ran her hands down his face...taking in everything about her wizard from his pale blonde locks to his aristocratic jawline, to his perfect seekers build and shook her head.

“What is it?”

There was silence as Hermione bit her lip in contemplation, but she knew in her heart that what she and Draco had was forever. There was no one more suited to her than he was.

“I love you, Draco.”

Grey eyes widened in surprise, before a genuine, relieved smile broke across his face.

“I love you too, Hermione.”

“Yeah?”

He nodded firmly. “_Always_.”


	75. It’s Coming Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Muriel enlists the aid of Lucius and Thoros.

Muriel had wondered how long it would take to get to this day. 

As she sat there with Hermione’s most recent letter in her hands, she felt her anger simmering underneath her calm, controlled exterior.

So the _truth_ was finally out.

At least a good portion of it.

Muriel Prewett, wasn’t a fool. She never had been. Her mother had gone to school with Bathilda Bagshot, and as such—Muriel had heard the whispered stories of the Dumbledore family even as a young girl. She had started Hogwarts the year after Albus had left the school, and had cursorily known Aberforth as they were both sorted into Gryffindor.

Aberforth had been a quiet wizard, as he had always seemed to prefer his own company, but between the summer of his fifth and sixth year—something had fundamentally shifted in the wizard. He become painfully withdrawn and reclusive and it wasn’t until months into the school year that Muriel found out the reason why.

Ariana Dumbledore had been killed in a duel gone wrong.

And Gellert Grindelwald had been blamed.

Gellert had been noted as a charismatic individual, who seemed to relish in the Dark Arts, but he was also fiercely devoted to his Great Aunt and it had broken Bathilda’s heart when her great-nephew left Godric’s Hollow never to return.

As his fame grew, and his misdeeds flourished around the world—Bathilda had been left to weather the storm alone with only Muriel’s mother, and later Muriel herself for companionship.

Then the famous duel in 1945 occurred and it hadn’t gotten past Muriel’s attention that Gellert’s wand was now the wand of the Headmaster.

She had suspected it of being the fabled death stick, but to have that finally confirmed was still a blow to the gut.

The Hallows were undoubtedly real, and Muriel had no reason to believe that the old coot wasn’t still after them even after all this time. He had the wand, and now the stone—and had once had possession of the cloak. Keeping it close whilst gaining Harry’s trust was a smart, calculated move. She had to hand it to the manipulative bastard...he fancied himself some kind of chess master but instead of playing for fun, the tosser was playing with people’s lives.

Had been playing with the lives of her grandson’s and now her great-granddaughter.

That simply wouldn’t do, and there was no way that Muriel was going to sit idly by and let that codger weasel his way out of another failed attempt to gain possession of the Hallows.

And possibly worse.

_Not this time._

As she sat in her parlour, her old journal opened in front of her—Muriel had written down all the information she had been given over the years, searching through clues, rumor and innuendo until she’d had what was written before her. 

She’d stayed in the shadows for years, desperately trying to connect the dots.

She now had a clearer picture of the truth.

Albus Dumbledore and Gellert Grindelwald had joined forces to try and find the Deathly Hallows, and at some point...Gellert had found the Elder Wand and became its master. An old rumor that Muriel had written down from back during her early years in exile had noted that Gregorovitch, the wandmaker, had been thought to have in his possession a powerful wand who’s properties he was rumored to replicate and use in his wand making.

So perhaps that was where Gellert had gotten said wand.

The stone however, had belonged to Tom Riddle at one time and now Albus had that too.

The conversation she’d had with Hermione some time ago, about what she had discovered at McKinnon Manor, had been the final piece of the puzzle.

Dumbledore needed the Hallows and access to the Manor...

But for what exactly?

Was that why he’d had the McKinnon family slaughtered? 

Muriel was convinced Dumbledore had something to do with it.

And unfortunately, Antonin Dolohov was still out there somewhere.

Peter Pettigrew hadn’t been much help in determining where the wizard had gone underground once he’d escaped Azkaban, and now the little rat was currently rotting in his own cell, with a charmed collar that prevented him from escaping from the prison in his furry form.

Tapping her index finger on her journal, Muriel hummed thoughtfully to herself as she waited for her guests to arrive.

Sabbo brought them both in about fifteen minutes later.

“Hello, gentlemen.”

Lucius and Thoros bowed in greeting, as Muriel waved them to their seats and offered refreshment.

Both men shook their heads in the negative, eager to get to the point of the meeting.

“I know you’re both wondering why I’ve called you here?”

“The thought did cross our minds.” Lucius drawled while Thoros just side-eyed the man and then gave Muriel a subtle eye roll.

“Patience is a virtue, or so I’ve been told.”

Thoros chuckled, earning him a scathing look from his friend.

“But no matter, I won’t bore either of you with banal trivialities at present. I do actually have a good reason for calling you here today.”

“And that would be?”

Muriel’s sharp gaze landed on the Malfoy Lord, before she handed over her journal. She watched carefully, as Lucius read through all the information she’d gathered over the years, and once he was done—he handed the same to Thoros who took his time perusing the pages with a scowl marring his aristocratic features.

“Compelling.” He said after a while, handing the journal back to Muriel. “But unproven.”

“Yet.” She was quick to clarify. “Tell me gentlemen, is there a way to circumvent Veritaserum?”

“I’m no potions Master, Muriel,” Thoros drawled, “and that might be a question best saved for Severus.”

Waving her hand in irritation, she just replied, “I’m not talking about counteracting the potion with another potion, Thoros. I’m talking about something far more sinister.”

“Which is?”

“A blood curse.”

Both men blanched uneasily.

“You are aware of the Imperius curse, and how it works correct?”

This comment was directed at Lucius with a sinister smile, and the blonde just rolled his eyes at the not so subtle dig.

“Obviously.”

“A witch or wizard under the _imperius curse_, would still be susceptible to Veritaserum, unless one of two things had occurred. An unbreakable vow...”

“Which would leave a mark upon the witch or wizard.” Lucius lifted up his hand where his own mark was clearly visible.

“True,” Muriel conceded with a nod, “or a blood curse. One in which the caster controls the will of the victim.”

“And just whom do you think did this?”

“I believe that somehow, Dumbledore may have either himself or had someone else curse Peter Pettigrew, to do his bidding.”

“To what end?”

“To make sure that the McKinnon family as well as anyone else he felt was a threat to his endgame, died at the hands of the enemy. He couldn’t do it himself, but he could make sure it was done in such a way that he’d _never_ be accused of the deed. And moreover, no one would suspect his perfidy, being the leader of the light.”

Both Lucius and Thoros stared at Muriel in horror. 

Was it truly possible that Dumbledore had been calling the shots all along?

That he’d used the Dark Lord’s own thirst for power to manipulate things to his satisfaction?

“You both appear stunned. Let me assure you that no one knew of Riddle’s nature more than Albus did. He _taught_ the boy, watched him grow. He could’ve at _any_ point, had the boy removed before he became too powerful, but he _didn’t_. Why? It’s not due to some great morality on his part. He sat back and watched your former Lord from the shadows for years, and it was only when the timing was right, that he created the Order and stood as a beacon and champion of the light. All the while, he planned and plotted knowing, due to Prophecy, that Riddle would ultimately fall. He wasn’t concerned with the collateral damage. I staunchly believe he helped it along to firmly bring Harry onside in the fight against Riddle, when the timing was _right_. Hermione has shared with me the questionable things those two got up to at Hogwarts under Dumbledore’s watch.”

Muriel shook her head in disgust at the thought before she forged ahead...

“Hermione has discovered that Dumbledore has the Elder wand and the Resurrection Stone.”

Handing Hermione’s owl post to Thoros first, Muriel sat back and watched both men read through the missive with disbelief etched onto their countenances.

“Salazar!” Lucius sat back and wiped his hands down his face. “He really has sat back and played us all, hasn’t he?”

“Like a bloody violin.” Thoros scoffed angrily.

“Do you think that he is in cahoots with Antonin?” Thoros queried and Muriel lifted an eyebrow as she too, had wondered that very thing but Lucius just shook his head.

“No. I just don’t see Antonin willingly joining forces with Dumbledore.”

“Unless,” Thoros mused, “the old coot had something Dolohov wanted desperately.”

All three sat there staring at each other in sudden shocked understanding.

“_Marlene_.”

Muriel nodded. “That was my thought as well.” She then sighed as she placed her journal back into her desk. “Pettigrew in his interrogation, told Amelia he broke Antonin out of Azkaban because he owed him a debt. What debt?”

Both wizards shrugged, not knowing or ever heard of such a debt.

“I think that Pettigrew somehow, was bound to Dolohov. The man was a gifted curse breaker back in his previous profession, correct?”

“One of the best. He was a notable Charms Master.”

Lucius nodded. “He invented all his own curses too. If Pettigrew was cursed, it’s likely something of Antonin’s own creation.”

Muriel considered this and then said shortly, “And just what would Dumbledore have to barter with now?”

As the three sat there and considered the possibilities—the truth in the end, would be the one thing none of them had considered to be a viable option.


	76. Oddity and Alchemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Draco’s birthday arrives, Hermione discovers some new information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely comments. My Graduate class just ended and I have a short break so I’m hoping to get this finished in the next couple weeks! Hugs to all!

“So, mate?” Blaise quipped as he lounged back in the Slytherin common room with Draco, Daphne, Theo and Hermione. “What do you want to do for your big birthday coming up next week?”

Draco rolled his eyes as he pulled his witch closer into his side and kissed her temple. “What makes you think I’ll be spending the day with you tossers?”

“Draco!” Hermione playfully slapped his chest, her eyes shining with mirth. “Be nice.”

“I am being nice, my love.”

The groans of all of their friends, had Draco smirking.

“You two are too much.” Theo gagged, while Daphne and Blaise just rolled their collective gazes at Theo.

“How’s Luna?” Hermione piped in, and everyone snickered when Theo cheeks blushed a fetching shade of pink.

“I’m still cross at you for outing me to my Father, cousin.”

“Tosh, Theodore. Your Father wasn’t angry and he did give his consent, didn’t he?”

“In a roundabout way.”

“Then you should be thanking her, mate.” Draco drawled easily.

“Maybe.” Theo grumbled, as he refused to engage about his personal life. “But back to Draco’s birthday. It’s on a Thursday and the final Quidditch match is a couple days later.”

“You guys going to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

“Blaise and I have Quidditch practice in the morning, but after that I’m free.” He then turned to his witch, and said, “How about we have lunch at the Three Broomsticks?”

“That sounds like a perfect idea. I’m sure Blaise, Daphne, Theo and Luna would love to go and Harry can bring Katie.”

Draco threw his head back and groaned, but they all ignored his pouting as it was obvious he didn’t want to share his quality time with anyone but Hermione.

“Stop it!” She kissed him gently on the cheek. “It will be fun. We will do a pre-birthday. You’ll be too busy with Quidditch for all next week so it will be good to celebrate now.”

“Do I get a choice?”

“No!”

Everyone laughed, and then a scathing voice from behind them spoke up.

“Oh, look who we have here? If it isn’t Prewett and her little icky fan club.”

Hermione rolled her eyes as she gazed over her shoulder, noticing Pansy standing there with Olivia Shardlow and Therese Rowle.

“Did you all hear something?” Daphne interrupted with a feigned confused expression on her face.

“No, I don’t think I did, love.” Blaise answered, easily picking up on Daphne’s game.

“Oh, you both are hysterical,” Pansy groused, “you both think...”

“There it is again!” Daphne looked around, blatantly ignoring the three other Slytherin girls. “Do you think someone stepped on a feral cat?”

“No, love,” Blaise smirked in response, “I think it sounded more like a shrill _banshee_.”

“Maybe we should find whatever it is and put it out of its misery?” Draco added, with a smirk of his own, “I mean, it would be the polite thing to do, wouldn’t it?”

“You all better watch your...”

Hermione winked at Draco and waved her hand, silencing Pansy instantly. When she gazed over her shoulder she grinned at the dark-haired witch.

“You know, Parkinson? Not that I ever considered you to be an exceptionally intelligent witch, but I would think based up what happened with Cormac and how long it took him to finally figure out the countercurse to my little spell...you might be a bit more reluctant to seek to antagonize me directly.”

Pansy flinched back, as did the other two witches who all had heard about poor Cormac. 

The wizard had been rendered mute for several months, and it was only when Ron had suggested rather loudly in the Gryffindor common room that the tosser might want to think about trying to apologize for offending Hermione, did the wanker finally get his voice back.

It had been the nicest couple of months in Gryffindor Tower, according to most of her housemates.

Even the professors were secretly pleased that they were spared from Cormac’s propensity for verbal diarrhea.

The wizard had left her alone after that and had been—if not exactly contrite...at least a bit more bearable.

Pansy just glared at her before her face broke out into a malicious grin. “I suppose I should be wishing the birthday boy many happy returns.”

“I wouldn’t strain yourself, Pansy.” The wizard in question sneered. “I’m sure I’ll survive without your tidings.”

Pansy for some reason, thought Draco’s remark funny as she started laughing, and the other two witches were quick to follow—leaving Hermione and the other Slytherins looking at the three witches like they’d lost their minds.

But all Parkinson said, once she’d stopped snickering was, “That was funny.” 

And a brief wave towards Rowle and Shardlow had the three leaving them alone.

“That was strange.” Theo said after they’d gone and everyone nodded, as the entire encounter had been odd.

“So, Hogsmeade?” Blaise continued on with their original discussion. “Why don’t you all head down there and Draco and I will meet you at the Three Broomsticks?”

“That sounds like a plan.” Daphne nodded. “Hermione and I can go to Gladrags and Scrivenshafts and save Honeydukes for after lunch.”

The rest of the evening was spent just discussing classes and plans for the summer. Hermione and Harry had hoped that Muriel had forgotten her promise to make them hold an event over the summer hols, but unfortunately...she hadn’t. They were to host an afternoon garden party at Fosgate Hall the Saturday after Harry’s seventeen birthday and planning would begin in earnest once they returned home after school was done.

Checking the time, Draco offered to walk Hermione back to Gryffindor, and she readily took him up on the offer. Waving goodnight to her friends and blowing a kiss to Theo...they left Slytherin territory and headed for the seventh floor.

Once they gotten to the third floor landing, Hermione decided to speak up.

“I know your birthday is next week, but I can’t help but wonder exactly what’s in store for us.”

Draco shrugged but his expression belied his own sense of unease about the unknown. “I wish we knew what to expect, love, but I do know that you don’t seem to be as unsettled. In fact, the closer we get to my birthday, the calmer you seem to be?”

Hermione nodded in agreement, because it was true. 

It was as if her magic knew that it had found its mate and was patiently waiting for the inevitable to occur.

“I suppose I should feel a bit more worried, but strangely—I don’t. It’s like, this was always meant to be and I feel somewhat foolish for not recognizing it sooner.”

“Well,” Draco reached for her hand as they held on to each other as the staircase shifted to the left, dropping them off on the fifth floor landing. “I tend to suspect that how I was in the past most likely had a lot to do with your reluctance to believe that we might be well-suited. Which is completely understandable, love.”

As they made their way towards the seventh floor landing, Draco pulled her aside to give her a heated final goodnight kiss which lasted a few minutes.

“I think,” Draco whispered, as he pulled back his lips from Hermione’s with an unhappy groan, “that this is going to be the best birthday ever.”

“Yeah?”

“Without question.”

Sighing, Hermione leant her head against Draco’s chest and felt his heart racing in time with hers and she smiled to herself. She was always amazed by the effect she had on him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Count on it.” He gave her his cutest lopsided grin before placing a final kiss on her lips, and as he walked away—backwards—Draco winked playfully before he did a quick turn around and headed out of sight.

Hermione just shook her head and giggled softly to herself at how adorable Draco Malfoy could be when he put his mind to it.

Giving the password, she walked into Gryffindor and found Harry and Ron over in the corner playing a game of Wizards Chess.

“Hey.” She said as she plopped down gracelessly in the unoccupied chair next to them.

Ron glanced over and winced, before he quipped sarcastically, “Your lip gloss is smeared.”

Hermione blushed and fixed her appearance, as Harry chuckled—not even glancing her way as he moved his bishop across the board...taking out Ron’s rook.

“Check.”

Ron’s head whipped back towards the game...an unhappy scowl on his face as he realized he was three moves away from checkmate.

“That was a good move.”

“I do have them occasionally.” Harry reminded his best mate, who just huffed as he cupped his chin in his hand as his blue eyes scanned the chess pieces, trying to find a new strategy.

“How’s the dungeons?” Harry asked and Hermione just shrugged.

“Fine, although Parkinson decided to make her presence known tonight. I swear the bint is completely barmy and unhinged. She’s like a rabid dog.”

“With a bone.” Ron piped in before moving his knight, with a self-satisfied smile on his face leaving Harry shaking his head in bemusement.

“What did she say?” Ron asked, watching Harry for a moment before he turned his attention back to his other best friend.

“It wasn’t so much what she said,” Hermione admitted with a small frown, “it was her...I don’t know? I can’t exactly pinpoint it. Something just feels off.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Mione,” Ron reassured, “Parkinson is about as dangerous as Fang.”

Harry moved one of his last two pawns forward, blocking Ron’s King from moving laterally and sat back with a nod.

“Have you heard from Aunt Muriel lately?” Harry asked, as Ron was trying to decide it he wanted to sacrifice his Knight by capturing Harry’s pawn.

“Not for a week.” 

Hermione fiddled with her hands as she had been slightly worried about her Grandmother, but Muriel’s last letter said that she was taking care of some family business and would owl when she returned.

“Did she say where she was going?”

Shaking her head, Hermione smiled when she saw Ron move his Queen across the board and put Harry’s king in check.

“_What was that!?”_

Ron just grinned smugly, while Hermione smiled at how ridiculous they were when they got playing chess.

“She didn’t give me any idea where she was going, but she did tell me that Theo’s Father was going with her, so that is something I suppose.”

“Still havin’ a hard time getting used to that.” Ron admitted with a grimace. “But at least she has some company. Mum said there was a time after her brothers had passed that Aunt Muriel holed herself in Fosgate and didn’t associate with anyone. It got worse after her daughter passed. So it’s good she’s getting out again, even if the circumstances are a bit strange.”

“Theo said his Dad is trying to make up for the fact that he shirked his familial responsibilities to Muriel after everything that had happened from before. I think he genuinely wants to make it up to her.”

Ron nodded, but didn’t reply as Harry moved his bishop back and blocked Ron’s Queen, causing her friend to scratch his head.

“I’m going to go to bed. It looks like you two are going to be at this for a bit longer.”

Harry looked up and smiled, while Ron waved his hand silently saying his ‘_goodnight_’ without his eyes leaving the game.

As she headed for bed, Hermione realized belatedly that she hadn’t gotten Draco a gift for his coming of age. Since they were intended, did she need to get him something special?

That thought persisted as she made her way into the sixth year girls dorms and plopped down on her bed with a soft groan.

“That sounds ominous.” Lavender snickered, while Hermione turned her head and eyed her roommate with a glare. Pavarti and Faye were sitting on the former’s bed, doing their nails.

“Sorry.” Hermione said as she sat up. “I just realized with it being Draco’s birthday next week, I haven’t gotten him a gift. Is there some kind of tradition for gift giving that I’m unaware of?”

Shaking her head, Lavender glanced over to her other two friends and they both shrugged.

“I don’t think so.” Lavender admitted, “it’s a bit unusual for a betrothal to happen before a coming of age.”

“Why?”

“Usually because Pureblood families want to make sure the magic is compatible.” Pavarti answered, and the other two witches nodded in agreement.

“That’s interesting.” Hermione sat up, giving the girls her full attention now. “So Draco’s and mine situation?”

“Is a bit unprecedented.”

Hermione thought about that for a few minutes, mulling it over in her mind before she asked seriously, “Is that why there’s so many of these summer parties and events?”

“Yes,” Lavender nodded, “certain families look for certain attributes to add to their familial line. For the Browns, they’ve always been drawn to witches and wizards who value certain branches of magic...primarily Divination and Astronomy. In the Longbottom family, they pride themselves on their abilities in Herbology. The Blacks were well know for their penchant for the Dark Arts. The Malfoy’s however, have never seemed to favor a particular branch of magic, but if I remember correctly—Ancient Runes as well as Potions were highly favored. The Potters were known for being Masters of Potions and Transfiguration. The Weasleys have always had a penchant for Charms.”

“That’s amazing.” Hermione wondered aloud, as she considered Lavender’s information. “What about the Prewett and McKinnon families?”

“The Prewett’s were known for their skills in Defense against the Dark Arts.”

“And the McKinnon family?”

Lavender swallowed a bit and Hermione noticed her eyes shift back and forth as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to answer the question, but eventually she said hesitantly, “Alchemy.”

“Really?”

“Oh yes. It’s how they made their fortune.”

Hermione sat back stunned. 

How had no one bothered to mention that to her?

“You seem surprised?” Lavender tilted her head in confusion. “I mean, we’ve all heard rumors of the McKinnon vault at Gringotts.”

“What have you heard?”

“Well,” Lavender’s gaze flew back over quickly to Pavarti and Faye, who both just looked on helplessly—but it was too late to go back now. “the vault has several unique enchantments.”

Hermione nodded. “I can confirm that much.”

“And the door to the vault.”

“Gold.”

“And does the vault door open?”

“Not exactly,” Hermione shook her head at the memory, “when I placed my blood upon the golden door, it disappeared.”

The three other witches just eyed each other with stunned expressions before Lavender wagged her finger at Hermione, with a hum.

“I don’t think the door vanished Hermione. My Aunt is Neville’s Mum. She was tortured by the Lestrange’s and is now a permanent resident of the Janus Thickney ward at St. Mungo’s.”

“I know, Neville told me about his parents last year after one of our DA meetings.” Hermione then remembered what Theo’s Father had told her not too long ago. “Your Aunt and my Mum were best friends.”

Lavender nodded. “They really were. My Da used to tell me stories when I was younger about my Aunt and her friends and I also remember him talking to my Mum too, about the McKinnon family. That’s how I know what I do.”

“Well, thank you for telling me.”

“You’re welcome.” Lavender smiled shyly. “I’m sure you’ll figure out something acceptable to give Draco for his birthday.”

“I hope so.”


	77. Captured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Hogsmeade visit goes awry.

Hermione had been thinking non-stop for the last day about Lavender’s words. The other witch had made mention of the McKinnon Vault door and then had abruptly changed the subject. She had been so surprised by how nice Lavender had been as they’d commiserated over shared family relations that Hermione hadn’t thought to question her about the impromptu segue.

But now, she was thinking about it.

Unfortunately, she didn’t have time to dwell on the particulars as she was already late to meet Daphne at Gladrags down in Hogsmeade.

Dressing in her favorite dark denims, boots and a tunic sweater, Hermione grabbed her bag and headed down to the village.

It didn’t take her long, and when she entered the clothing shoppe, she was only ten minutes late.

Thankfully Daphne didn’t seem to be too worried.

“Hey, Daphne.”

“Hermione.” The blond witch smiled, but Hermione was quick to note her demeanor seemed a bit more subdued that normal.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s not a problem.” The Slytherin witch waved her over to a row of new dress robes the shopkeeper had just gotten in. “I was looking at these. I like the blue one.”

Hermione watched as Daphne pulled it off the rack and held the garment up to her body. The color was a stunning jeweled blue.

“I think you would look great in that.”

“Hmm, you should try on the emerald green one.”

“Really?”

“I think it would look stunning on you, and you’ll need a few new sets of dress robes for the summer season, right?”

“I suppose.”

Daphne picked up the item, and nearly shoved her into the back dressing room. “Go! Try it on!”

Hermione gave her new friend a questioning look, but took the proffered set and headed for the fitting stall.

A few minutes later she emerged, in a very fitted set of dress robes that hugged her curves perfectly, causing Daphne to clap with enthusiasm.

“Perfect!”

Hermione had to agree. The color of the robes did look good with her complexion and hair.

“Are you going to try on those?” Hermione pointed to the set sitting next to Daphne, and the other witch shrugged. “Nah, I just remembered I saw a set at Madam Malkins over Easter hols I preferred over these. I’ll pick them up when we get back to London.”

Paying for the item once she got redressed, Hermione asked the attendant to have the robes sent immediately to Fosgate Hall.

“Let’s go get some tea?” Daphne pulled Hermione towards Madam Puddifoots. “I’m parched.”

“Are you feeling alright?”

“Fine..fine...just didn’t sleep well last night. Busy thinking about exams.”

“Me too.”

Both girls smiled and entered the tea shoppe, where they took a seat by the far wall, that was a bit more secluded than the rest of the tables. 

The shoppe was empty, which was surprising for a Saturday mid morning.

“So, have you picked out a gift for Draco’s birthday yet?”

Hermione shook her head sadly.

“Well,” Daphne whispered conspiratorially, “I picked something up for you to give him. Now, you might think it a bit forward of me, but I’ve known Draco for a long time and have a good idea what he likes.”

Hermione’s eyes widened in shock.

It was a bit forward, but thoughtful too...and she really was _stumped_.

Nodding at the blonde in resignation, Hermione watched as Daphne handed her a small box and when Hermione went to take it...and open it...the minute she touched the set of snake cufflinks in the box, she felt the pull of a portkey as it whooshed her away.

The swirling sensation, seemed to go on forever and when she landed—she did so very hard, but before she could get her bearings—something hit her on the back of the head and the last thing she remembered was a dark voice laughing.

Back in Hogsmeade, Daphne was sitting there in the tea shoppe, her expression passive when Pansy silently moved out from the back with Therese and Olivia. The pug-faced witch gazed around and seeing they were still alone, lifted the _Imperius_ curse from her fellow classmate—then the three witches left out of the back of the tea shoppe, while Daphne just sat there dazed and confused. When she came back to herself she looked around and shrugged, before leaving and heading over to the Three Broomsticks as it was almost time for lunch.

She was wondering where Hermione was, as they were supposed to meet up to go to Gladrags before lunch, but checking the time Daphne decided to head to the tavern as she didn’t want to be late.

When she got there, everyone was waiting except for Hermione.

“Hey guys!” She smiled as she sidled next to Blaise, who was freshly showered after Quidditch Practice. “Have you seen Hermione?”

Everyone looked at each other confused, and then Draco clarified, “I thought she was supposed to meet with you beforehand?”

“I did too, but I haven’t seen her.”

“Where did you come from?” Harry asked, and Daphne replied, “Madam Puddifoots.”

“Weren’t you supposed to go to Gladrags?” Theo interjected and Daphne nodded.

“Maybe she’s still there?” Harry inquired uneasily, a pit forming in his stomach.

“I’m going to go and check.” Draco stood up with Harry and Theo following him out of the tavern and onto High Street before they turned left and headed towards the clothier boutique.

When they got there, the attendant welcomed them with a warm smile.

“Hi,” Draco said politely, “I’m looking for Hermione Prewett, was she in here recently?”

“Yes she was,” the attendant replied, “she purchased a set of robes and asked that I send them to Fosgate Hall for her.”

“Was she alone?”

“No, Daphne Greengrass was with her, she helped her pick out the set.”

All three wizard’s stood there in shock, but Draco was the first one to rush out the door as he ran back towards the Three Broomsticks with Harry and Theo hot on his heels.

When Draco burst through the doorway, he nearly ran over Madam Rosemerta who’s expression was at first angry, but seeing the panicked look on the young wizard’s face turned concerned.

“What is going on here?”

Draco muttered a quick apology, allowing Harry and Theo to handle the barmaid before he spotted Blaise and Daphne up at the bar grabbing some drinks. He made to intercept them immediately.

“Daphne!” He whisper-yelled, gesturing for his two friends to follow him into the back where the loo’s were located and once there, Draco set up several privacy wards.

“Mate, what’s wrong?”

Staring at Daphne, Draco could see the worry etched on her face.

_What the fuck was going on?_

“Daph, I went over to Gladrags and the sales assistant said you were in there earlier with Hermione.”

Shaking her head, Daphne was clearly perplexed. “No, I wasn’t.”

“She _saw_ you!” Draco growled angrily, panic starting to set in. 

“Draco,” Blaise warned, seeing his best friend starting to lose it, “if Daphne said she wasn’t there...”

“But she was. The witch said Hermione bought a dress that you helped her pick out.”

Daphne’s gaze darted from her boyfriend, to Draco and both of them could see her becoming upset.

“Draco, I would’ve remembered if I was in the shoppe with Hermione.”

Talking several deep breaths through his nose, Draco paced back and forth for a few moments before he stopped, turned and pulled out his wand.

“I need you to allow me to look into your mind.”

“What?!?”

“Look, Daph? I need to see your memories of the past few hours. If you really weren’t with Hermione then it should be fine.”

“No..no, you’re right, Draco. If this is the only way...”

“It is,” Draco admitted as he leveled his wand and made eye contact before silently mouthing the word ‘_Legilimens.’_

It didn’t take him long to find what he was looking for, and when he broke eye contact he could see the horror on Daphne’s face as she remembered what had happened.

“What is it?” Blaise demanded as Harry and Theo arrived and Draco dropped the spells momentarily allowing them into the conversation before he reset the wards.

“Oh Salazar!” Daphne cried, “What have I _done?!?”_

Draco shook his head in fury. “You didn’t do it, Daph, you were _imperiused_.”

“What!” All three of the wizard’s standing there shouted simultaneously.

“Could you see who it was?” Daphne asked shakily and Draco shook his head, his expression hard.

“No, but I did hear the voice of the person.”

“Did you recognize it?” Blaise asked as he pulled his sobbing witch into his embrace.

“Yes, I did.” Draco gestured for all of them to follow him out of the tavern as he waved his wand and dropped the spells surrounding them. “Split up. Find Pansy and her little cohort. I’m going to ask Rosmerta to send for my Father and Severus. If I’m right, Pansy is helping Dolohov.”

“You really think that Pansy would be working with that lunatic?” Theo’s expression was filled with disgust, but Draco silently nodded.

“I think we need to seriously consider it. We need to get out there and find her, and if she’s hurt Hermione? I will kill her myself!”

Harry pulled out his wand and cast his Patronus. His stag appeared and he was quick to give it a command before it galloped away. He then noticed everyone staring at him in awe.

“Messenger Patronus. I taught it in the DA last year.”

“Impressive.”

“Who did you call?” Draco wondered, side eyeing Blaise’s appreciative statement with a sneer of his own.

“I sent it to Neville and he will let the rest of the DA know, that way we have more people looking for Pansy.”

“Good.” Draco nodded firmly as they walked out en masse to the main dining area. Draco immediately found Rosmerta, and told her what and happened. She promised to get in touch with his Father and Severus as soon as possible.

“Should I contact the Headmaster as well?”

“No,” Draco shook his head emphatically, “not yet.”

The older woman seemed to disagree but wisely didn’t argue the point as she promised to do what she could to help.

As they made their way down High Street, they split up into three directions. Blaise went with Daphne—Harry and Theo partnered leaving Draco by himself.

When he got to the pathway leading towards the Shrieking Shack, he heard voices arguing around the bend. Casting a silencing spell, he poked his head through a small copse of trees and saw Pansy and Therese arguing with Thorfinn.

When in the fuck did he get back to England?

“Are you _sure_ no one saw you?”

“Yes, brother!” Therese scoffed, “Do give us some credit.”

“Are Malfoy and Potter in the village too?”

“Draco was supposed to meet his little cronies at the Three Broomsticks. I’m sure you’ll find them all there.”

“I still don’t understand why Dolohov wants Draco?” Pansy whined, causing Thorfinn to glower at her.

“That’s _not_ your concern. As far as I see it, the little prick deserves what he gets. He led my sister on as well as you, Parkinson—that alone should be enough for you.”

_What the fuck? _

Why was Dolohov after Potter and him too?

None of this made any sense!

Not sure what to do—wondering he should attack directly or wait for back up—Draco didn’t immediately notice movement to his left, but something registered out of the corner of his eye and turning his wand towards to sound...he saw Potter moving alongside of him.

Draco was quick to put a finger to his lips, signaling the Chosen One to be quiet. Potter nodded and then silently pulled out his Invisibility Cloak, causing Draco to smirk.

Nodding at the unspoken question, Harry mouthed the words, “_count to twenty_” as he pulled the cloak over himself and waved his hand in the direction to the right...indicating he was going to move to flank the three standing there.

Counting in his mind, when Draco reached twenty, he fired off a _petrificas totalis _right at Thorfinn, but somehow, Therese moved exactly at that second into the pathway of his spell and she fell with a thud as Pansy was simultaneously taken down by Harry.

Thorfinn shouted, “You fucking prick!” 

And sent back a barrage of spells back at Draco...who desperately deflected them while Potter cast several successive incarcerous spells at the two witches lying prone on the ground.

Then Shardlow showed up from nowhere, and joined into the fray, attacking Potter.

Spells were now falling left and right...and when it looked as if Rowle was finally gaining the upper hand when a cutting curse hit Draco’s right arm causing him to slump back—a jet of red light shot through the trees and hit the burly wizard full on—throwing him back fifteen feet and onto the ground.

_Hard_.

Draco turned around, and saw his Father standing there with Severus...both their wands aloft as they took in the carnage. The adrenaline from the duel had been flowing so hard, that Draco didn’t even realize he was bleeding until his Uncle came over and whispered some spell under his breath...healing him instantly.

Potter leveled his wand at Thorfinn, who rolled over onto his stomach...groaning in pain but as Harry moved over to bind the wizard, he miscalculated the amount of distance and Rowle’s hand shot out...grabbed onto Potter’s ankle and before anyone could mount a defense—they both were gone!

_Shite!_


	78. Chaos Reigns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione regains consciousness only to discover something she's more trapped than she realized.

The smell was the first thing that permeated Hermione’s consciousnesses when she came to. 

The second, was the throbbing of her head and the third was the fact that she was lying on the cold, hard ground.

The final thing as her eyes opened slowly, was the feel of a weighted collar wrapped around her throat, wrists and ankles. Lifting her hands slowly, she could just make out the etched runes within what looked to be goblin silver. The pattern was more intricate than any she’d ever come across before and as she tried to will her magic to come to life—she gasped as she felt her stomach curl in on itself in excruciating pain!

Was she being _crucio’d?_

The cries that fell from her mouth must’ve alerted her captor to her presence, as she heard someone laughing lowly from just out of her eyesight.

“Who’s there?” She gasped in pain.

Footsteps echoed throughout the room...probably a basement of some kind?

Then a face emerged from the shadows...

_A face from her nightmares!_

“Well...well...well...” the accented voice hummed more to himself than to her, “look who finally decided to wake up?”

“Where am I?”

“Now, now..” Dolohov tsked in warning, “you’re lucky you are still alive. You killed the Dark Lord, and if it were up to me? I would’ve gutted you by now.”

Hermione paused at that comment. 

Dolohov wasn’t working alone?

Was Dumbledore really in cahoots with this lunatic?

“What do you want?”

The menacing grin on the wizard’s face made Hermione want to vomit.

“You’ll find out soon enough, but if I were you I’d refrain from trying to use your magic. Those shackles are of my own creation and will only cause you more pain if you try and break free.” The Russian’s smile then morphed into something nefarious as he added, “And if that’s not enough to deter you, just know that I have Potter here as well, and I’d be happy to punish him for your lack of compliance.”

“You’re _lying!”_ She hissed and Dolohov just chuckled maniacally, before he waved his wand and the once empty space next to her now was visible. Her heart plummeting into her throat as she saw Harry bleeding and not moving.

She then turned her face back to the Death Eater and snarled, “You better pray he’s alright or I swear on Morgana, I will turn you to ash as soon as I’m free of these.”

Shaking his head, the Russian’s smile was both amused and cruel. “Such a waste, that you had to be born to that sorry excuse for a wizard.”

“My Father was ten times the wizard you are, _sobaka_.”

Dolohov’s eyes narrowed at the insult, but before he could retaliate, footsteps approached.

Turning towards the sound, Hermione’s eyes widened as Thorfinn Rowle came into view.

“We have a situation.”

Dolohov glared at his comrade, but nodded and made to follow him out of the dungeon when Hermione decided to throw a line out to see if she could catch anything.

“I wonder what your Dark Lord would say if he knew you’ve been working with Dumbledore this entire time, _sobaka_.” (Dog)

The older wizard stopped cold, but Rowle just appeared confused.

“What is she spouting about, Antonin?”

“Nothing!” The Russian growled.

“Didn’t sound like nothing to me.”

Dolohov glared over his shoulder, while Hermione just grinned like a fool.

“You didn’t tell your friend the real reason for this little kidnapping?” Hermione tsked and waggled her finger mockingly.

“You don’t know of what you speak, _suka_.” (Bitch)

Thorfinn’s gaze moved from one to the other, his expression getting darker by the second.

“Antonin, if there’s something you need to tell me you best do it now! Therese and her friends were captured when I tried to take Potter and Draco, and while they don’t know where we are...”

Dark eyes glared heatedly at the tall Viking wizard, but the younger man just stared back unafraid.

“You actually had your sister helping you? What kind of wizard are you, Rowle? You had a promising Quidditch career which you’ve just thrown away all for this one’s obsession?” Hermione titled her chin in Dolohov’s direction, as the older wizard growled as he waved his wand and silenced her.

“What the fuck, Antonin?” Rowle grabbed the Russian’s arm before he could move out of the room. “What fucking obsession is she talking about?”

“It is nothing.”

“Doesn’t sounds like nothing to me, so I’ll ask you again? _What the fuck is going on here?_ You told me that this was to get revenge for the death of the Dark Lord, and now I find out that there’s another reason behind this? The swot is right! I can’t go back now! Lucius, Severus and Draco have all seen my face! They know I was helping you!”

Dolohov shook his head as he moved to get a bit of distance and before Rowle could react, the Russian cast the killing curse and Hermione watched in horror as Rowle fell dead upon the ground.

When he was done, Dolohov sheathed his wand and smiled coldly.

“Keep your mouth shut, or Potter will be next!”

Hermione listened as he left the room, her eyes fixated on the now dead body of Thorfinn Rowle and she could feel her breathing becoming agitated. 

As much as she’d disliked Rowle, she wouldn’t have wished the wizard dead.

But the one thought that kept playing like a loop in her mind as she continued to stare at the dead body was that she was right.

Dolohov was working with Dumbledore. 

He’d never have killed Thorfinn if that wasn’t the case.

Glancing over at Harry who was still unconscious, Hermione realized belatedly that thankfully Draco was safe for the moment. 

She didn’t understand what Dumbledore wanted with Draco...what was he hoping to accomplish?

For every answer, several more questions kept popping into her head.

Elsewhere, back at Hogwarts—the Aurors had arrived. Kingsley and Tonks were currently questioning the three Slytherin witches in the Headmaster’s office as all three refused to talk initially.

“What is taking them so long?” Draco growled for the tenth time in the past twenty minutes. “Why can’t they just give them Veritaserum?”

“Because such interrogation practices must first go through the Head Auror and the Department Head of the DMLE.” Lucius clasped his son on the shoulder. They were sitting outside the Headmaster’s office, and Draco wasn’t pleased at all with the turn of events. As soon as they’d brought the witches back to the castle and before his Father could contact anyone, Dumbledore was right there demanding to know what had happened.

His faux concern made Draco want to _crucio_ the bastard.

“Were you able to send of a missive to Muriel?”

Lucius nodded. “She will be here shortly with Thoros. If I know Muriel, she won’t wait for an invitation.”

“Right you are!” The elderly witch replied as she stalked down the corridor, her wand out while Thoros flanked her from the rear. “Where is Hermione?”

“Gone.” Lucius replied uneasily. “Along with Potter. Thorfinn Rowle took Harry and we have reason to believe that Daphne Greengrass was under the influence of the _imperius_ curse when she gave Hermione a portkey that took her from Hogsmeade.”

“And how did you determine this?”

“I did,” Draco piped in, “I used Legilimency on Daphne and found the memory. Once she was able to recall it, she was devastated.”

Muriel’s expression darkened measurably as she headed right for the entrance to the Headmaster’s office. Waving her wand in several motions, she broke down the wards and smirked as all the wizards stood there and gaped at her stunned.

“The man is consistently a fool. If he’s going to use the names of sweets as his passwords, then he deserves to have his office broken into..._wouldn’t you agree?_”

They all nodded and followed Muriel as she headed up the flight of circular stairs and when she got to the large oak door, she blasted her way through it.

“What _the!”_ Tonks wand was out in a flash, but her eyes glinted with amusement as she immediately realized whom had decimated the old oak door.

“Put down your wands!” Muriel demanded, leveling her own at the room at large before her blue eyes landed on the weathered face of Albus Dumbledore. “Dora, return to the Ministry and bring Amelia at once.”

“Now, Muriel...” Albus admonished with a shake of his head, but Muriel just snarled.

“Don’t Muriel me, you loathsome man!” Lady Prewett shouted in rage. “I’ve had enough of your machinations to last me a lifetime!” She then turned back to Nymphadora and waved her wand to the floo. “Amelia, _NOW!”_

Tonks just nodded, and rushed through the floo while the three younger witches stared at the Prewett Matriarch in fear.

It was about ten minutes later Amelia came through the floo, her expression livid.

“What is the meaning of this?”

“Weren’t you made aware that my Granddaughter and Mr. Potter have been kidnapped from Hogsmeade not even two hours ago?”

“What?” Amelia then turned her monocled eye onto Dumbledore and narrowed her gaze. “Is this true, Albus?”

“I’m afraid so,” Dumbledore’s response as well as his concerned facial expression didn’t fool Muriel for a second. “Unfortunately we haven’t been able to glean much of anything from the accused.” 

He waved his hand to the three Slytherin witches, who now had differing expressions of fear, anger and smugness.

“Then perhaps you weren’t asking the correct questions.” Thoros interrupted with a knowing gleam in his eye.

“I’ve contacted the parents of the three witches.” Dumbledore offered serenely and Amelia frowned.

“That was not for you to decide, Albus!” The Head of the DMLE shook her head angrily. “Once again, you _overstep_ your authority. You are no longer Chief Warlock.” Madame Bones blew out a frustrated sigh, as she looked over the three witches with disdain. She then turned around to Muriel, Lord Malfoy and Lord Nott...who were all glaring at the Headmaster in open dislike. 

Waving her wand and casting a silencing spell, she moved over to Lady Prewett.

“I’m sorry, Muriel, but I don’t know what to do here. If Dumbledore has indeed contacted their families my hands are tied until I can bring this in front of the Wizengamot. Which would be tomorrow at the earliest.”

“Perhaps there is another way?” Lucius drawled out carefully.

“Which is?”

Lucius silver eyes considered the three witches carefully before he spoke. “Have the Aurors take them into holding at the Ministry and allow Severus to use Legilimency. We simply don’t have time to waste trying to find Hermione and Mr. Potter. We know Dolohov has them both.”

“Why do I think there’s more to this than what you’re telling me?”

“Because there _always_ is.” Muriel agreed caustically. “We both know he’s not to be trusted. Edgar would agree if he were here, and you know this, Amelia.”

Madame Bones expressions pinched sadly at the mention of her beloved brother, but she nodded finally. “You will have one hour, Muriel. I can’t allow more than that.”

“That’s all we will need.”

Cancelling the silencing charm, Madame Bones gestured to the Aurors to take the three witches into custody. When the last of them was taken through the floo back to the Ministry, she stopped Dumbledore from following.

“You are not part of this investigation, but I will be back to talk to you after I’ve interrogated these girls. If I find out you had any knowledge of this, Albus? I will see to it that you’re stripped of your position!”

The Headmaster just sat back and steepled his hands carefully, but didn’t reply as his blue eyes twinkled with amusement.

“Of course, Amelia.”

Lucius turned to his son and said firmly, “You will come with me.”

“Mr. Malfoy still has classes, Lucius.” Dumbledore’s voice carried over the room, and Lucius just stared down the old coot with a glowering sneer.

“And I’m Head of the Board of Governors, and it is my right to remove my son from this school if I feel his life and well-being are in jeopardy.”

“There is no safer place than Hogwarts.”

“Tell that to Miss Prewett and Mr. Potter, old man.” The Malfoy Lord then moved over like a snake waiting to strike as he tapped his cane threateningly on the Headmaster’s desk. “You best not be involved with this Dumbledore. Because if you are and I discover your complicity in this regard, I will deal with you myself.”

“Now, Lucius...”

“You did make me take an unbreakable vow, did you not? Or have you forgotten?”

Dumbledore’s mouth flattened as his eyes lost their normal sparkle as he stared the blonde down over the rim of his glasses.

“I haven’t forgotten.”

Lucius twisted his cane in his gloved grip before lifting his lips in a condescending smirk and with a flourish, he turned around and gripped his son’s shoulder, leading him into the floo—not seeing the murderous expression on the Headmaster’s face as they left the school grounds.


	79. The DMLE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Ministry, Draco is given some help in his quest to find Hermione.

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement was the one place that Draco had never hoped to see within the Ministry. He had no aspirations to become an Auror, nor go into Magical Law as a career. He rather hated Ministry politics, unlike his Father—who seemed to thrive on political intrigue like it was some kind of rare delicacy.

Currently, he was sitting outside one of the more private interrogation rooms while Severus, (along with Muriel, the Minister and his Father)...were inside with Madame Bones trying to get any snippet of information out of Therese Rowle.

Draco did his best to appear inconspicuous, a difficult task being who he was—his hair was a dead giveaway—when he noticed his cousin Nymphadora coming out of a room down the hall. Her eyes landed on him and she didn’t waste a second heading in his direction.

Then she sat down next to him.

“Wotcher, Draco,” her voice was kind, “how are you doing?”

“I’d be better if someone would tell me where my witch has disappeared to.”

Tonks nodded, her expression morphing from concerned to something else. “Hermione is tough. I’m sure she’ll be okay.”

It took all of Draco’s patience not to roll his eyes, but all he said was, “I hope you’re right.”

Tonks looked this way and that down the hall, before she scooted a bit closer to him.

“Hermione wrote to me and told me you two have been working with Severus.”

Draco turned his head to the side as he considered his cousin, before he nodded.

“So your Legilimency?”

“Is good.”

A quick smirk flitted over his cousin’s face, before she stood up abruptly and motioned for him to follow her. When they got to the door from the room she’d just come out of, she placed a hand on his arm to get his undivided attention.

“You have _five_ minutes.”

Draco looked down at Nymphadora in confusion, but all she replied with cryptically was, “Just make sure you modify her memories afterwards, yeah?”

A slow, wicked smile morphed onto Draco’s face and he bowed his head humbly at his cousin...mouthing the words, ‘_thank_ _you_’ before entering the interrogation room.

When he stepped over the threshold, he wasn’t exactly surprised to see Pansy sitting there alone. Her expression at seeing him however, was expected.

Her eyes widened in surprise at first, then narrowed in anger as she scoffed at him.

“You’re not supposed to be in here. My family solicitor will be here soon.”

Draco just chuckled as he moved over and grabbed a chair, before placing it right across from her. Her wary expression was rather funny.

He then sat down, took out his wand, placed it on his lap and smiled...

_Cruelly_...

“I always knew you were a jealous bitch, but even I didn’t think you were so hateful as to imperius Daphne to do your dirty work.”

Pansy scoffed again, louder this time. “You have no proof of that.”

“But I do,” Draco taunted, “I went through Daphne’s memories and was able to determine it was _you_ who placed the unforgivable on her. You’ll be serving a nice long sentence in Azkaban for it.”

Turning her head away, Pansy sneered hatefully. “You’re bluffing.”

“Pansy?”

“What?”

As soon as the witch made eye contact, Draco ripped into her mind. He didn’t even need to speak the incantation nor use his wand for the spell. He’d become so proficient at it, he could even pick up on basic thoughts from his other classmates at school.

He wasn’t gentle. 

He was brutal and efficient. 

Thankfully, Nymphadora had cast a silencing charm as Pansy’s screams were music to his ears. Once he’d found what he was looking for, he tore out of her mind with the same viciousness he’d entered, and took great pleasure in seeing Pansy’s tear-stained face as well as her body shaking violently.

“You utter _bastard!”_

“Tsk, tsk...Parkinson. You did this to yourself. I had wondered how you’d managed to learn to cast a decent unforgivable and your wand will out you when I let the Aurors know to cast _Priori incantatem_ on it. But for now?” Draco grinned as he pulled out his wand and cast an obliviate, then vanished the clear signs of Pansy’s distress before leaving the room as quietly as he’d entered it. When he got outside, he nodded at his cousin and said firmly, “She used the _imperius_. Have her wand checked. Her Father taught her over Easter hols, and wouldn’t you know? The man has several dark artifacts stored in a secret room next to his study. The password is _demiguise_.”

“We’re you able to find anything else out?”

“Not much. Dolohov visited Parkinson Place over Easter Hols. Pansy’s Father has been helping him. He may know where Hermione is being held.”

“I’ll let Amelia know.”

“Thank you, cousin.”

Tonks just clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Anytime, cousin.”

Draco went to sit back down in the seat he’d been using previously and it was a while before his Father came outside to check on him.

“Anything?” He demanded, standing up as his Father approached him.

“Neither witch seemed to know where Dolohov might be hiding, although Therese did have some information about just whom has been helping Antonin.”

“Pansy’s Father.”

Lucius eyed him curiously but nodded before his attention was shifted to the witch walking down the hallway with a mischievous grin on her face. 

Lucius gazed from his wife’s niece, to his son and smirked.

“I see you’ve been busy.”

Draco shrugged, but didn’t confirm his father’s suspicions.

He didn’t need to.

When Severus finally came out, Madame Bones was with him along with the Minister for Magic and Muriel.

Tonks pulled Amelia aside and whispered something into her ear, and once she was done, the Head of the DMLE glanced briefly at the young Malfoy Heir, a quirk of her lips fleeting before she informed the Minister that Lord’s Rowle and Parkinson had arrived along with Olivia Shardlow’s Mother.

“Put them in the conference room for now and make them wait.”

“Of course, Ma’am.”

Once Tonks had left, Amelia turned to Muriel...her expression apologetic. “I wish I had more information for you, Muriel. However, we might have some room for negotiation as it seems we’ve been handed some useful information.” Madame Bones then turned to Minister Scrimgeour and clarified, “We have reason to believe that Lord Parkinson has been in contact with Dolohov. I am requesting a search order to check Pansy Parkinson’s last known spells on her wand that we have in custody. If this information is to be believed, she used an _unforgivable_ on Daphne Greengrass. I’ve asked Dora to contact Lord Greengrass immediately and bring Miss Greengrass in for questioning. I also have information that Lord Parkinson may be harboring illegal dark artifacts in his home and he may have some idea where Dolohov is keeping Mr. Potter and Miss Prewett. I want an immediate search and seize order prepared to have the Aurors raid his home tonight.”

“Granted.” Scrimgeour nodded. “Keep me appraised.”

“And Dumbledore?” Muriel hissed.

“Muriel,” Rufus admonished lowly, “you have no proof that Dumbledore is involved in this.”

The Prewett matriarch pulled out a sealed letter from her bag and handed it to the Minister. Curious, he opened it and read through the contents, paling deeply as he finished the missive.

“How?”

“Thoros Nott and I went to Nurmengard and spoke with Grindelwald. From there we followed the trail he set for us. As you can see, there’s enough information there to start a formal inquiry into Albus alleged abuses of power over the past fifty years that he’s held the position of Chief Warlock.”

“I’m going to need more than this, Muriel. The man is revered.”

“Not for long.” Muriel scoffed. “I have reason to suspect he’s working with Dolohov as well.”

“Muriel...”

“Don’t, Rufus!” Lady Prewett pointed her weather finger at the man in warning. “At least bring him in for questioning.”

The Minister rubbed his hand on the back of his neck in consternation. 

As much as he wasn’t a fan of Albus Dumbledore, it would be political suicide to bring the man in for questioning without more evidence.

“I’m sorry, Muriel, truly. But until you can find me something concrete, I’m afraid my hands are tied.”

Everyone there watched angrily as the Minister for Magic walked away, and Muriel muttered, ‘_idiotic fool’_ under her breath.

“I’ll get the search done tonight, Muriel. Maybe something will turn up there.” Amelia offered placatingly. “Go home, and I’ll come by first thing when I know something more definitive.”

Muriel wanted to argue, but both Severus and Lucius shook their heads at her. Her gaze then moved to the young Malfoy and he too, seemed unwilling to leave.

“You will contact me as soon as you hear anything.”

“Yes..yes.” Amelia promised. “Please try and get some rest.”

Madame Bones nodded to the wizard’s in parting and then left to do her job. Hopefully by the morning, they’d have a line on where Hermione Prewett had been taken to.

Merlin help Albus Dumbledore if something happened to that girl. 

Muriel would surely _avada_ the old man, and Amelia didn’t relish seeing Muriel Prewett sent to Azkaban in her grief. 

She’d already lost too much.


	80. The Real Albus Dumbledore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dumbledore makes his presence known, and forces Harry and Hermione to do his bidding.

Where the fuck was he? 

Harry thought as he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck as he rolled over onto what felt like a cold, hard surface.

“Harry?”

“Mione?”

Sitting up gingerly, Harry readjusted his glasses as he squinted out into the darkness of wherever the fuck he was.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Harry turned his head to where he believed his sister’s voice was coming from. “What happened? Where are we?”

“A basement or cellar of some kind?” Hermione’s voice sounded tired. “Dolohov is out there somewhere. He killed Thorfinn Rowle yesterday.”

“Shite!” Harry moved slowly as he crawled over towards Hermione’s voice and felt the cold metal of bars blocking his path. “Can’t you get us out of here?”

“No.” Hermione’s voice was filled with sadness. “Dolohov put some kind of magical restraint around my throat, wrists and ankles. It’s etched with runes that seem to be a warding spell of some kind. I spent most of yesterday trying to figure out the ones around my wrists.”

“Any luck?”

“Some.”

Harry nodded in the dark as he leant up against the bars and not too long after, he felt Hermione’s hand entwine with his through the bars.

“Dolohov is working with Dumbledore.” She whispered lowly, and felt Harry’s hand tighten over hers.

“You’re sure?”

“Yes. When I confronted Dolohov in front of Thorfinn, it seemed as if Rowle didn’t know what was going on. I’d mentioned Dumbledore, and Dolohov killed Rowle.”

Harry heard Hermione’s voice fall on the last two words and he shushed her.

“Not your fault, Sister Mine.”

“Doesn’t feel that way, Brother Mine. Rowle was a certifiable piece of work, but I would’ve never wanted him killed.”

“I know.”

Silence pervaded through the room for a bit, then Hermione asked shakily, “Is Draco okay?”

“I think so.” Harry was quick to reassure. “I got too close to Rowle after Lucius took him down and he grabbed me and used a portkey to bring me here.”

Harry heard Hermione’s sob of relief, and he tightened his hold on her hand—trying to give what reassurance he could.

“What do you think he’s waiting for?” Harry said after a moment.

“I’m not sure.” Her voice wavered and when a sound came from above them, they both quieted down immediately. Then a door opened from somewhere and they heard voices, which now carried a bit louder as it sounded as if whomever was speaking wasn’t happy about something.

Both Hermione and Harry waited with baited breath for the voices to quiet, but that didn’t seem to be happening at all. It was a bit later, as the first vestiges of light flickered through the only window, that the door opened and several sets of footsteps were heard coming down into the cellar.

When Harry got a good look at just who was standing there, he growled out in anger.

“Dumbledore.”

“Hello, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore’s twinkling blue eyes landed on Hermione and he seemed to be curiously eyeing her new additions with interest. “Miss Prewett.”

“I can’t believe you’re working with that lunatic!” Harry yelled as he pointed to the Russian wizard, who was smirking evilly at them.

“It was a necessary concession I needed to make, I’m afraid.”

“_Bullshite!”_ Harry growled out. “Don’t pretend that you weren’t behind this from the get go! You knew my parents changed secret keepers and you knew Pettigrew was a Death Eater! Nothing gets by the great Albus Dumbledore!”

“Now, Harry...”

“Shut it, old man!” Harry growled out in pure rage.

Dolohov chuckled and said something in Russian that had Dumbledore’s expression pinching unhappily.

“Unfortunately, it would seem we are on a time constraint at present.” Dumbledore pulled out Harry’s invisibility cloak from his robes. “I will need you to transfer ownership of this to me, Harry. I’d rather not kill you to obtain it.”

“That won’t work either.” Harry grinned manically. “Since Muriel is now legally Head of my House, the goblins at Gringotts were only too happy to change the parameters of my parents estate into her hands. Which means everything that is mine is now in _Muriel’s_ charge, until I turn of age. So I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”

Dumbledore’s expression grew angered, and his eyes lost there sparkle as he stared down the Boy Who Lived.

He then nodded to Dolohov who flicked his wand towards Hermione and the runes on her shackles started to glow as she screamed in agony.

Harry gripped onto the bars as he watched his sister writhe on the cold, stone floor in pain and shouted, “Stop!”

Dumbledore put up his hand to stay Dolohov’s wand, and the runes stopped glowing as Hermione’s breathing stuttered—and her body curled into a fetal position.

“Mione!” Harry breathed out as he reached for his sister, her whimpering cries breaking his heart. He then turned back to the Headmaster and lunged through the bars, catching the old man’s cloak before he was blasted back by Dolohov.

“That was foolish, Harry.” Dumbledore tutted as he readjusted himself and held out the cloak again. “If you would be so kind?”

“Harry, no!” Hermione’s broken voice shattered the remainder of his resolve, as he slumped down onto the ground.

“Fine. You want it? It’s yours, and I hope you choke on it!”

The old wizard just shook his head, but then turned to the witch cowering on the floor and said dispassionately, “Miss Prewett, we will need access to McKinnon Manor. I don’t think I need to tell you what might happen to Mr. Potter here if you refuse.”

Hermione rolled over and glared at her soon to be dead Headmaster, but all she croaked out was, “And how do you suggest I accomplish that?”

“I do believe if you call your House Elf Bunny, she can take us through the wards.”

Rolling onto her her back, she called out for Harry silently in her mind and explained to him what she wanted him to do. His answering silent agreement was enough for her to know that Harry would be alright.

Gingerly standing up, she moved over to the door of the cage and Dolohov whisked his wand, opening the grate. Stepping out, she gave Harry a small smile before calling out, “Bunny.”

The tiny elf appeared and gasped when she saw her Mistress standing there looking so disheveled. The elf eyed the collar around Hermione’s neck and twisted her hands together.

“Yes, Mistress?”

“I need you to take me and these two men into McKinnon Manor.”

The elf’s ears flapped but she nodded reluctantly.

Dumbledore moved forward and said firmly, “I will go first. She can come back and take the two of you next.”

Hermione watched Bunny disappear with the Headmaster and a minute later she was back again. She then took Dolohov’s right hand, (who had his left arm planted around Hermione’s waist) as he sneered down at the elf in disgust.

“Don’t try anything, or I will kill your Mistress.”

Bunny nodded, and grabbed the wizard’s hand—disappearing with them both.

As soon as they were gone, Harry called out loudly, “Dobby!”

The free elf popped into the cellar, his eyes widening as he immediately noticed Harry’s predicament.

“Harry Potter!”

“Dobby, I need you to get me to Muriel Prewett and then I need you to go upstairs and see if you can locate my wand!”

“Of course, Harry Potter! Dobby will do that rights away!”

The elf took Harry’s hand and together they vanished, only to reappear instantly in the tea room at Fosgate Hall where Harry heard the shattering of china. 

Turning, he saw Muriel sitting there with Thoros, Lucius and Draco—who all had their wands out and pointed at him.

Dobby popped away again and came back a moment later with Harry’s wand.

He thanked the elf and sank to the floor, tears streaming down his face.

“Dumbledore and Dolohov have Hermione! They took her to McKinnon Manor. Dolohov has her trapped in some kind of collar device that has runes etched in it. If she tries to use her magic, it’s like she’s been hit with multiple crucios.”

Muriel stood up and waved the wizards to lower their wands. She moved over silently and gripped her nephew’s shoulder.

His green eyes stared up at her in sorrow. “It’s my fault! Dumbledore made me give him the cloak, he had Dolohov hurt Hermione, so I gave it to him. Then he threatened to have Dolohov kill me if Hermione didn’t have Bunny take him through the wards. She immediately realized after he’d asked, that if Bunny could be summoned...”

“Then Dobby could as well.” Draco finished for him, and Harry nodded desperately.

“Thorfinn Rowle is dead. Dolohov killed him.”

Muriel turned to Thoros and said firmly, “Get Theodore here.”

“Why?”

“He has McKinnon blood, Thoros. There is a slight chance, since Hermione has taken him to McKinnon Manor that the wards recognized his blood too. Mr. Potter is also blood bound to Hermione through the ritual we did last summer.”

Thoros nodded and moved out of the room, the sound of the floo going off a minute later.

“Lucius, you need to let Amelia know what has happened.”

The Malfoy Lord bowed his head, patting his son’s shoulder before disapparating out of sight.

“Do you really think this is going to work, Aunt Muriel?” Harry pleaded.

“Call for Bunny, Harry.”

“Bunny, can you come to me please?”

A second later the tiny elf popped into the room, and both Harry and Draco sighed in relief.

“Is Hermione alright?”

“That evil wizards has taken her to the family stones.”

“Bunny, can you remove the collar and shackles from Hermione?”

“No’s, Bunny cannot. But the Lady of the Fay can. Mistress needs to call her forth and she can do it.”

Draco’s eyes widened as he squatted down at eye level and thanked the elf.

It took about ten minutes to get Theo there along with Thoros, Lucius, Amelia, Tonks and Kingsley. 

Bunny called for her family and together, all made their way to McKinnon Manor. 

Draco just hoped they weren’t too late.


	81. The Master of Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Albus attempts to use the Hallows, but makes a miscalculation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I thought I’d give you this chapter too, today...you’ve all been so great with waiting through my endless cliffy’s...

Being dragged through her ancestral home was really starting to piss Hermione off. The only saving grace of this injustice was right about now, Harry was calling for Dobby to come and rescue him.

For all of Dumbledore’s machinations and plotting, he never seemed to think much about the inherent magic of magical creatures.

_Especially that of House elves._

She fought the urge to grin at what an utter fool the old wizard was.

And if Dolohov pulled her any tighter into his body, she’d have to spend the next week scrubbing the filth off her body!

As they made their way towards the sacred stones that surrounded the largest of the yew trees, she could literally feel the ground hum with anticipation. Glancing over at Dumbledore, Hermione knew the old bastard felt it too.

_Was that the power of the Hallows?_

Shaking her head, she didn’t have any more time to ponder as they finally reached the spot and once Dumbledore crossed the barrier of the stones, they started to shimmer and pulsate with magic.

“Ah!” Dumbledore nodded, pleased with himself, “Just as I suspected. This is the place!”

“Whatever, old man,” Dolohov sneered, “we had a deal. You get what you want and you give me what I demand in return.”

“Yes...yes, Antonin. No need to be hasty.”

The Russian just rolled his eyes, as he kept a firm hold on Hermione and watched as the old wizard pulled a stone from his pocket. He waved his wand and suddenly, a small alter appeared in front of the large yew tree. Dumbledore placed the cloak down upon it, then the stone. Pointing his wand, he chanted something Hermione couldn’t quite make out, and then she gasped as the yew tree shivered and reached for the heavens...it’s branches unfolding in the morning dawn as the sun just started to peak over the horizon.

Then the tree split open in two, like a doorway...

_Or a veil!_

**Fuck!**

Now Hermione realized what the Lady Morgana was trying to tell her!

When the veil lifted, there was a rushing river flowing treacherously downhill, seemingly moving out of sight. As Hermione craned her neck to see around the tree, she realized she couldn’t.

Unbelievable!

Then a shadow emerged from the waters and settled on the embankment, it’s cloaked figure swaying in the morning breeze.

“Albus Dumbledore.” The voice hissed and Hermione could see the Headmaster’s expression. 

He seemed completely calm and in control.

“I am he,” Dumbledore replied, “I have come, as _Master of Death_ to demand that which is rightfully mine.”

“You wish for eternal life?”

“I do.”

Death swayed forward, its coldness cloying over the grounds as it moved.

“But that is not all you seek of me?”

“No it is not. I call forth Marlene McKinnon, to be returned to this place.”

“No!” Hermione screeched, as Death swiveled its attention to her—but Dolohov just gripped her tightly and held her back.

The black figure hummed and then waved his hand and suddenly a figure emerged from the waters—and a petite woman with blonde wavy hair and large blue eyes stood before them. She gazed at the Headmaster, a deep frown marring her face before she noticed Dolohov—then her daughter.

“Hermione!”

“Mum!”

Hermione tried to move, but Dolohov just held her tightly as he grinned ferally at the other witch.

“It would seem you’ve fulfilled your pledge, old man.” The Russian cackled madly, before he turned his gaze back to Marlene. “I told you, witch, that you’d _never_ be free of me.”

Marlene bristled, but her worried gaze was locked onto her daughter.

Hermione just stared at her mum sadly. Her powers were bound and there was no way she could save herself, nor her mother from Dumbledore and Dolohov!

Tears fell down her cheeks, as she sobbed quietly. 

For all her powers...

“Princess...” Draco’s voice melded into her mind, and it took all her Occlumency training not to react to it.

“Draco!” She pleaded silently.

“Yes, love. I’m here. We all are. Bunny told me you need to call the Lady of the Fay to you. Only she can free of from the shackles that Dolohov has placed upon you. We are almost there. Give me two minutes.”

“Okay.”

Hermione’s eyes locked back with her mother, and she was surprised that she could see understanding flicker over her Mum’s countenance.

“Tell me something, Dumbledore?” Marlene insisted suddenly, “Just how many deaths of those within the Order were by your hand? Lily, James, Mary McDonald? Edgar, _my husband _and his brother?”

Dolohov hissed at the mentioned of Fabian Prewett.

“It matters little now, Marlene. What’s done is done.”

“It matters to _me!”_ The witch bellowed in righteous anger. “You convinced my parents to leave our ancestral home—leaving us to exposure and slaughter! Did you have the others killed too?”

“It was all for the Greater Good, Marlene.”

“_Fuck you and your greater good, old man!”_

Dolohov cackled madly, as he grinned at Marlene.

“I’d almost forgotten what a little hellcat you are _l'vitsa_.” (Lioness)

“Fuck off, you prick!” Marlene glowered and spat on the ground.

Dolohov tsked and then murmured something in Russian and Hermione started to scream in his arms as her manacles glowed brightly while Marlene pleaded for him to stop.

After a moment, Dumbledore sighed and said in a bored voice, “That is enough, Antonin. You’ve gotten your prize. Take her and leave Miss Prewett to me.”

“_Expelliarmus!”_ The word was shouted simultaneously by both Harry and Draco as both Dolohov’s wand and Dumbledore’s flew through the air.

Draco caught Antonin’s and Harry grabbed the Elder wand tightly before immediately _accio’ing_ his cloak and the stone to him.

“No!” Dumbledore shouted as the Hallows flew across the barrier, and Death just stood there and chuckled deeply.

“It would seem, Albus Dumbledore, that your request will be denied.”

Dumbledore turned towards Death and demanded, “I asked and you granted my request!”

“No, wizard,” Death clarified, “you asked another request of me before I could commit to your desire. I did not agree to it, so therefore it is not done as the other took precedence. With the Hallows one gift, and _only one can be bestowed.”_

Dumbledore turned mad eyes onto the rest of the group, who were all standing there pointing their wands at him.

Dolohov pulled out a blade and held it to Hermione’s stomach.

“Give me my wand back, boy!” He shouted enraged at Draco.

Draco for his part, was clearly conflicted as he couldn’t get a clear shot at Dolohov, who was holding his witch against his body as a shield.

“My Lady of the Fay..” Hermione called out as Dolohov grabbed her tighter around the stomach.

“Shut up!” He cried.

The grounds shimmered and the trees rustled as the wind blew through the stones and then there was a green light glowing...

And a figure emerged...

Lady Morgana stood before her descendent with a smile.

“Ah, Hermione.”

“My Lady, please _release_ me...”

Morgana’s eyes turned white as the ground trembled and Death laughed...but suddenly Hermione gasped as she felt Dolohov’s blade slice into her abdomen.

Draco’s cries drowned out everyone else’s, and Hermione could see him rushing towards her, but at the moment her manacles fell away—her magic flared to life.

As the flames engulfed her body, she felt her wound pulsate through her body. She heard Dolohov yell as he flinched away from her—his hands and body burnt from where he’d had her pressed against him. She then turned her eyes to Dumbledore, and could see him trying to move away.

Flexing her left hand out, she felt her magic pulling herself into the air, and taking Dumbledore with her. As she looked down briefly, Hermione noticed all eyes were fixated on her but no one attempted to stop her. Her right hand extended towards Dolohov, and the wizard was bound as the yew trees moved out to constrain him into place, the branches wrapping around his body like a vise.

She could feel Dumbledore’s panic, but she didn’t care. He was responsible for the deaths of so many people, and he couldn’t be allowed to face Ministry justice. The bastard would just somehow manage to find a way to lie and manipulate his way out of punishment.

Once she was high enough, Hermione pulled her arms outward and her magic exploded...the cry of the Phoenix echoing over the grounds of her ancestral home as the power of her magic bombarded Dumbledore with such force—his screams fell on deaf ears as he was instantly turned to ash.

After Dumbledore was no more—Hermione pulled her magic inward and sighed as she looked down again and immediately noticed the entirety of the Manor’s grounds brimming with renewed life. The stones were pulsating with raw magic, as they glistened in the sunlight and as her eyes caught and held Draco’s, he was grinning at her from ear to ear.

Floating back to the ground, Hermione went to move towards her wizard when a harsh chuckle stopped her cold.

“It has been centuries since one of Morgana’s children has been gifted with such powers.” Death hissed. He then turned to Harry, who held the Hallows tightly within his grip and said, “Master of Death. What will you bade of me?”

All eyes turned to Harry in shock, but he just stood there like a deer caught in the headlights, unsure of how to respond other than, “What?!”

A few chuckles were heard, but Harry just shook his head as he gaped openly at Death.

“I don’t understand.”

“The Hallows are yours to command me at will.”

“Seriously?”

“Quite.” Death once again seemed amused, as Harry glanced over at his sister—who nodded at him, knowing instinctively what Harry would ask for.

It seemed Marlene knew too, for she said kindly, “He’s waiting for you, Harry. All you have to do is ask.”

Harry sniffled and nodded as he moved forward through the barrier and set all three items down on the altar that Dumbledore had conjured.

“I ask you to return my Godfather—Sirius Orion Black, to me.”

“And is that is what you wish?”

Harry nodded emphatically and Death’s power reverberated like the rushing of water and then suddenly Sirius stood on the embankment, looking exactly as he did the day he died.

“Sirius?”

The Marauder grinned and said lovingly, “Hey, pup.”

Harry didn’t waste a second as he ran over and enveloped his Godfather in a crushing hug, saying “_I’m sorry”_ over and over again.

Hermione started crying softly, and when Sirius saw her, he held out his other arm, and she too—rushed into his embrace, crying happily into his chest and murmuring ‘_Padfoot_’ repeatedly, as if she couldn’t believe he was there.

Sirius glanced over his shoulder at Marlene, who wasn’t alone. Fabian was now standing with her, and he had a wide smile on his face. His blue eyes locked onto his daughter for a moment until his gaze met that of his Grandmother.

“Hey, Nan.”

“Fabian!” Muriel gasped as she clutched her chest tightly, feeling Thoros coming alongside her to support her.

“I’m sorry, Nan.”

“Don’t be, my boy,” Muriel shook her head, “you did what _needed_ to be done. You’ve always done what was needed.”

Fabian bowed his head humbly and then smiled as his daughter moved towards him and Marlene.

“Mum?” Hermione’s voice cracked and then she turned her gaze to the man next to her Mother and stuttered out, “Dad?”

“Yes, Princess.”

Moving faster than she thought possible, Hermione engulfed both her parents into a blistering hug, which they returned with equal affection. They whispered words of pride and love for her, and as her mother finally pulled back—she grasped Hermione’s tear-stained face within her hands and said softly, “You’ve grown into such a beautiful witch, my Princess. Soon, you will be bonded with your wizard. Trust in that bond you have with each other and know that this was always meant to be.”

Hermione nodded emphatically, and glanced over her shoulder towards Draco—who was watching her closely with love shining from his eyes. When grey met the blue of Fabian Prewett, Draco bowed humbly and Hermione’s Father nodded once, giving his own blessing of their union.

He then turned his attention towards Dolohov.

“Who will take care of that?”

Hermione turned her head towards the Russian and then back to Death and demanded, “Take him for your own. Make sure he _suffers_.”

“And what will you give me if I do this?”

Hermione turned to Harry and he said firmly, “I return back to you that which is yours.”

Death cackled like mad and as he reached out his large bony hand...the trees bent to his whim and all watched transfixed as Dolohov’s body floated into Death’s clutches...his screams as he was drowned into the River Lethe were music to Hermione’s ears.

“It is done.” Death spoke simply, and with a wave of his hand, the Hallows vanished from sight. Death then turned to Fabian, Marlene and said deeply, “It is time to return.”

They nodded reluctantly. “Sirius,” Marlene pleaded softly, “take care of our daughter.”

“You know it, Kitten.”

Marlene laughed joyously, while Fabian rolled his eyes, but they both seemed placated.

Marlene and Fabian nodded in turn as they said their goodbyes to all and Hermione suddenly felt a hand on her arm, and when she looked up, it was Draco who was standing there next to her. She reluctantly, allowed him to pull her back through the stones as the ground hummed and pulsated causing the veil to close, and the Yew tree was whole once again.

And Morgana smiled in peace.

“It is _done,_” She said relieved, “and I can _finally_ rest.”

And with those words, the Lady of the Fay shimmered and was gone.


	82. Padfoot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco realizes just what he’s getting into with Hermione having Sirius Black for a Godfather.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all the lovely kudos and reviews which I will respond to sometime soon!

The rest of Monday had been filled with family reunions as Harry and Hermione sat next to Sirius at Fosgate’s Hall dining table, while Muriel had Corky serve a Feast for their family.

Lucius, Narcissa, Thoros, Theo, Amelia, Tonks, Andromeda, Remus, Harry, Draco and Hermione all sat around the table, enjoying each other and putting past grievances where they belonged.

It was tentative at first as to just how Sirius and Lucius would behave around each other, but being gifted another chance at life, had surprisingly mellowed the mischievous and previously emotionally unstable Maurader a bit.

He decided to take a page out of Remus book, and let bygones be bygones.

But that didn’t mean that as Hermione’s Godfather, he wasn’t allowed to warn off the little Malfoy shite she was betrothed to.

The look on Draco’s face as he’d threatened him, was almost worth dying for.

_Almost_.

Then the little prick had asked him cheekily if he’d wanted his Lordship back!

_ **Fucking Slytherin’s!** _

He’d never gotten to be a proper Godfather to either one of his godchildren, and after Muriel and Amelia had promised him that due to Peter’s capture and subsequent confession—he’d been exonerated posthumously and was, for all intents and purposes—a free wizard? Sirius had promised himself right then and there, he’d put his godchildren’s needs first and foremost.

His little kitten had made him vow however, to not go after Kreacher for his betrayal and to leave the poor elf alone.

Sirius had groaned and then promised to do so, as Hermione had looked at him beseechingly.

He was _so_ fucked.

He was going to have to be _all respectable now._

He realized his limits were going to be tested even more so, when Snape showed up at dessert time, and the surly bat took one look at him and quipped caustically, “Seeing you, almost makes me wish Dumbledore was still alive.”

“Snivellus.”

“_Dog_.”

“You both, that’s enough!” Muriel pointed at each of them in succession, and told Severus to ‘_sit down and behave’_ which surprisingly, he did—after lifting a condescending eyebrow at the Prewett Matriarch.

Once the table was cleared and tea served, Hermione turned her attention to Madame Bones.

“What’s going to happen to Pansy, Olivia and Therese?”

Amelia sighed, but replied emotionlessly, “The Auror raid on the Parkinson residence was enough to charge Lord Parkinson with holding several illegal Dark Artifacts. He and his daughter will be arraigned by the end of the week. Best guess, both will be serving time in Azkaban. All the girls will be expelled from Hogwarts. Now that Dumbledore is gone, Minerva McGonagall will be taking over the position as Headmistress, pending approval by the Board of Governors. Olivia and Therese will likely either serve some time in Azkaban, or be put on lengthy probationary sentences and house arrest, but that will be up to the Wizengamot to determine.”

“And Thorfinn Rowle?” Hermione asked sadly.

“His body was recovered by Kingsley at the place you were held, and will be returned to his family for a proper burial. I will likely, need your memory Hermione for the Wizengamot.”

“I understand.”

Muriel was quiet, as she considered her Granddaughter closely. It had been a hard few days for Hermione, and despite it ending well—her tender heart would hold a measure of guilt for a while.

Thankfully, Muriel grinned inwardly—she was above such sentiments. The only thing she felt was validation and pleasure at the fact that Dumbledore was dead, and Dolohov along with him.

She could finally leave this life with a measure of peace in her heart.

“How is your magic feeling, Dearest?”

“Good.” Hermione nodded. “Although I’m a bit tired.”

“As you should be.” Muriel tutted. “You should probably return to Hogwarts soon, but perhaps you might see fit to take your betrothed to the family stones outside, before you do?”

Hermione blushed, but nodded as she silently asked Draco if that was alright. He replied it was, as he stood and helped her out of her seat, excusing themselves from the group.

As they made their way out of the back patio doors and down the steps towards the gardens, Draco pulled her to his side and wrapped his arm around her waist.

“I’m so glad you’re alright.” He whispered emotively, “I was going out of my mind thinking I’d never see you again.”

“I know,” Hermione replied listlessly, “I was terrified too.”

They didn’t speak again until they got to the Prewett family stones, and Draco’s breath hitched in awe.

“Is that rose quartz?”

“It is.” Hermione smiled softly as she pulled Draco over and placed his hand on the large slab, lying hers on top of his. The magic of the stone thrummed with life. “My Grandmother told me that this altar is enchanted so that a Prewett will always find his or her true match.”

Draco nodded a bit distractedly as he closed his eyes and felt the magic of the stone wash over him. He could feel Hermione’s emotions running over and through him and he gasped as his eyes widened in shock at the force of her love for him.

“Can you feel it?” She whispered into his ear, and he nodded.

“I _can_.”

He opened his eyes and saw Hermione’s staring adoringly into his own. Draco reached down and grabbed her, pulling her onto the stone altar and then moving directly over her as he kissed her breathless, over and over again.

The magic of the rose quartz vibrated with power.

“I love you.” She gasped on a broken sob, as her lips parted and she took in a shaky breath.

“I love you too, so much!” Draco growled, as he ravaged her mouth again and again.

Time slowed down as the two were lost to each other, the smell of roses and earth surrounding them both as they continued to kiss and pull at each other frantically.

So engrossed they were, they didn’t hear the slight ‘_pop_’ until a voice cleared its throat loudly.

Draco lifted his head and turned it to see Sabbo standing there, staring at them both with a stern expression.

“Mistress has asked me to remind you both, that now is not the times for such antics.”

Hermione blushed deeply while Draco snickered. “Please tell your Mistress we will be in post haste, Sabbo.” Draco drawled with a wink, and watched as Sabbo huffed, but left them to themselves.

Pulling his witch up carefully, Draco helped set them both to rights before they headed back inside.

“Your Godfather threatened to hex my man bits off, if I ever and I quote, ‘_don’t treat you like the Princess you are’_ endquote.”

Hermione grinned and shook her head at her intended. “Sirius is only half serious.”

“He’s a menace.”

“He’s my Godfather and the closest thing I’m going to have to a parent from now on, so you better get used to it, my love.”

“Fine!” Draco grumbled with a pout, “But I reserve the right to sic my Mother on him, if need be.”

“Blacks.” Hermione shuddered playfully. “You lot are too much.”

“Perhaps.” Draco conceded with a quick grope and one last kiss on his witch’s lips before they headed back inside. “But promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Just, if our families get to be too much, we give ourselves permission now to do whatever makes us happy and be a team.”

Hermione stopped and put her arms around Draco’s neck, staring up into stormy grey eyes that she loved so much. “You have yourself an accord, Mr. Malfoy.”

“Brilliant.” He purred, before dropping his lips down onto hers and kissing her reverently.

“Come on, you two!” Theo groaned as he walked into the library, where they’d come back through the house.

“If you don’t like me snogging my witch, don’t watch, Theodore.” Draco sneered haughtily at his friend.

“You think I’d be here if I hadn’t been told to come and find you both. Black is around here somewhere in his animagus form.”

“Padfoot!” Hermione called out, and smiled widely when she heard a bark coming from the other room. When the large black dog burst into the library, Draco crowed out in shock.

“That’s a _fucking Grim!”_

“No, he’s not!” Hermione bowled over in laughter.

Draco’s expression was clearly unamused, as he scowled at her. Then Padfoot jumped up on him and licked his face, causing Draco to move back in disgust and curse loudly.

“Fucking mutt!”

“Draco!”

“What!” He growled as he took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the dog drool from his face. “He’s a right menace!”

Harry at that moment, walked in grinning. “That’s Sirius for you.”

Draco didn’t respond, but his expression softened as he noticed Hermione sitting down, petting the Grim lovingly.

It was clear that his witch had missed the mangy mutt...wizard...

Whatever...

“He’s not coming back to Hogwarts with us, love.”

Blue eyes gazed up at him with a mischievous edge to them, and Draco sighed in defeat.

“Really?”

Padfoot barked, wagging his tail happily and Draco groaned, realizing that he was outvoted. As he caught Potter’s eye, the prat just looked way too smug for his own good.

“This was your idea, wasn’t it?”

Harry shrugged, but didn’t deny it.

“Look on the bright side, Malfoy. With Padfoot around, think of how much safer Hermione will be.”

Scowling, Draco couldn’t fight against that little bit of manipulative logic, and how could he deny his witch...when she was smiling so happily?

Fuck!

He was turning into a fucking sap!

“Fine.” He growled—then groaned when his arms were suddenly full of Hermione as she placed tiny kisses all over his face.

His smug smirk fell over his countenance before he gripped Hermione’s chin between his fingers and kissed her deeply, ignoring the groans and singular bark of the dog who was nudging him with its large head.

“Are you all enjoying yourselves?” Muriel’s voice echoed within the room, causing Draco to pull away with a slight blush while Hermione just winked at him.

“Witch.”

“Your witch.”

“True.” He grinned, and pulled her into his side. “I’m a lucky wizard.”

Everyone rolled their eyes, including Padfoot—which was kinda odd, seeing a dog do such a thing.

“It’s time to return to school.” Muriel piped in, “Severus will take you back.”

“It’s not as if I have a choice.” Severus droned, as he billowed into the room, scowling at the dog, who was growling lowly under his breath at the Defense Professor.

“Please tell me he’s not coming?”

“Now, Severus,” Muriel tsked, “I’m sure Sirius will be on his best behavior.”

“That’s not possible.”

Morphing back into his human self, Sirius just glared at his nemesis.

“I’m more than capable of behaving myself, Snivellus.”

“Sirius!” Hermione’s bossy voice broke through the stare down currently happening between the two men, “Please try and get along.”

There was an awkward shuffling of feet, as Sirius groaned out unhappily.

Severus for his part, just looked bored.

“Fine, but if he starts something...”

“Don’t flatter yourself, Black..” Severus interrupted with a sneer, “I know how to keep my trap shut.”

Sirius mumbled something unkind under his breath, but Hermione wasn’t having any of their drama.

“If you can’t behave, you can stay here with Grandmother until Harry and I get back home in a few weeks.”

“But...”

“I mean it, Padfoot!”

Folding his arms petulantly, Sirius just glared at the floor but finally nodded in agreement.

“Are we sure he’s supposed to be the Godfather?” Theo whispered to Draco, who grinned but one sharp look from Black had him backtracking a bit.

_Was his hearing that good?_

The Black smirk that fell over Sirius face let Draco know that the wizard did indeed, have his animagus hearing whilst in his human form.

_Shite!_

“Come along, children.” Severus tone let them all know he was including Black in that grouping, and by the deep frown marring Sirius face, the wizard knew it too.

Hermione went over to her Grandmother and gave her a tight hug. “I’ll write you.”

“Yes you will.” Muriel returned the affection, pulling back and placing a soft kiss on Hermione’s forehead. “You will not go anywhere alone. You will stay with Draco, Harry, Theo or Sirius at all times.”

Hermione went to argue, but Muriel shook her head. “Do I make myself clear, young lady?”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

“Good.” There was a relieved sigh from the elderly witch. “And whilst I’m certain you are healed, please have Madam Pomfrey check you to make sure of it.”

“She will.” Draco interrupted firmly, before Hermione could answer.

Muriel smirked herself and nodded at the Malfoy Heir, ignoring her Granddaughter’s glare at her intended.

“Are we done with the touching moments?” Severus drawled, “As I do have papers to grade.”

“Of course.” Muriel waved them off and watched with a sad smile as her Granddaughter left with her gaggle of wizard’s in tow.

When they were gone, Muriel sat down on the couch and stared at the wall...not hearing Thoros coming in with Lucius and Narcissa.

“Muriel?”

Sharp blue eyes turned towards the Nott Lord and gestured for the group to join her.

“I’m fine.” Answering the unspoken question, and she could see that Thoros didn’t quite believe her.

“You’re not, but that’s to be expected.”

Muriel didn’t deny the sentiment, as she continued to ponder over what had occurred.

“Is it wrong of me to wish that my Fabian could’ve been returned to me?”

“No,” Thoros shook his head, “but I’m fairly certain that he would have chosen to remain in the afterlife if Marlene could not return with him. I do believe it would’ve been the same with James and Lily Potter. Only a single gift could be bestowed. For all of his arrogance, even Dumbledore hadn’t known that fact.”

“And it cost him _everything_.” Lucius smirked in satisfaction.

“Is it also wrong to hope that he suffers endlessly for what he’s done? Is it wrong to wish that all his misdeeds as they were, were outed for all to see?”

“I think Skeeter’s book outed quite a bit of it and once the investigation is done, I’m sure there will be more reported on. Amelia left to head back to the Ministry and took Tonks, Remus and Andromeda with her.”

“I never did thank you properly, Lucius, for that bit of Slytherin tactic.”

“There was no need.” The wizard in question replied, “If anything, I feel the fool for not realizing sooner just how dangerous Dumbledore really was. Part of me wonders now, if he’d planned all along for Mr. Potter to be the instrument of the Dark Lord’s return. Allowing the boy to participate in the Tri-Wizard tournament, despite being underage? Did he set this up from the beginning?”

Muriel shook her head in disgust, thinking about all the particulars of everything she’d learned over the past year.

“If my conversation with Gellert was any indication, Dumbledore was a master at using people to further his agenda.” She paused and then said softly, “How do you think Minerva is going to take the truth once she learns it? She’s always revered the man?”

“Amelia and Severus will be talking with her come the morrow.” Lucius offered. “Amelia plans on showing Minerva her memory from today. I think that will go a long way in convincing Minerva of the truth. She also has a soft spot for her lions, Hermione in particular.”

“That is true.”

“What of the bonding?” Narcissa inquired cautiously, “Do we have any idea what to expect?”

This caused Muriel’s expression to morph into something more devious. “They went to the family stones tonight. If I’d had any doubt that they were fated, the magic that I felt from the pair was enough to let me know that our families will be permanently entwined by weeks end. _They will be bonded_. I suppose we should start planning a wedding soon.”

Narcissa clapped her hands happily, and Lucius smirked at his wife’s enthusiasm.

Even Thoros seemed amused.

“The only question is, where to have it?”

Muriel sat back and thought about it seriously but knew that in all likelihood, the ceremony would have to take place at Malfoy Manor.

Family wards were tricky things.

“I suppose it would be prudent to hold it at your home, Lucius, Narcissa—if for no other reason than the wards would likely benefit from their wedding bonds. Hermione’s magic has blessed the lands here and at McKinnon Manor. Perhaps it might be wise to have her do the same for Malfoy Manor as well.”

“That’s fairly generous of you, Muriel.” Thoros patted her hand in commiseration.

The elderly witch sighed, “I’m not going to be here much longer, Thoros—so I can well afford to show a measure of generosity in this instance.”

Everyone quieted as they considered that stark reminder.

“But I’m not dead _yet_,” Muriel snarked, “and I have no intention of leaving this life until I’ve held my Great-great grandchild within my arms, and see for myself that the Prewett line will prevail and flourish again, after I’m gone.”


	83. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fallout from Hermione’s abduction is dealt with.

The next morning found Hermione being accosted by Sally as she came down into the Gryffindor common room, where most of her House mates were waiting for her. Hermione returned the girl’s hug and then Ron came over, and clapped her on the shoulder—his expression filled with relief.

“I should be right upset at Harry for going off half-cocked without me,” Ron admitted, “but I’m just glad you two are okay. Dunno what I woulda done had something happened to either one of you.”

Hermione hugged her best friend, and he awkwardly returned it—his face as red as his jumper.

Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Lavender, Faye, Pavarti all came over one by one and hugged her too. 

Even Cormac gave her a brief nod, which she returned sheepishly.

“What happened, Hermione?” Lavender asked, genuinely concerned. “We heard from Professor McGonagall that you and Harry had been taken by Dolohov. Pansy, Olivia and Therese were taken into custody and Daphne’s been a right mess since Saturday.”

“It’s a long story, Lavender, but I’m sure the Prophet will report some of it soon.”

“Is Dumbledore really dead?” Seamus asked and Harry nodded.

“He was working with Dolohov.”

“Why?” Dean wanted to know, so Harry told them about the Deathly Hallows and about McKinnon Manor. He and Hermione had decided that now that the Hallows were gone, and Morgana was no longer needed to guard the Manor, it would be alright to discuss the particulars. 

Once he was done, everyone just stared at Hermione in shock.

“You’re descended from the Lady of the Fay?” Seamus whistled in appreciation. “No wonder you’re a Sorceress.”

“I was wondering about that too,” Hermione confessed, “makes me wonder if all those with elemental powers are from her line?”

“Most likely,” Lavender nodded. “There were some legends that stated that Morgana was the last of the High Elves, like a Dhampir—which would be the equivalent with vampires—she was thought to be half human, half Elvin.”

“I’ve never heard of that.” Hermione admitted with a sigh. “But one thing I have been wondering is why there was so much Old Norse literature on the property.”

“That’s another legend,” Faye interrupted, “that Lady Morgana was part Asgardian.”

“From the old Norse legends?”

Faye nodded. “Yep, that she was the daughter of Odin Allfather, and a human mortal woman.”

Hermione shook her head, as it was all too unbelievable to even imagine either one of those scenarios being likely.

“Well, it probably doesn’t matter now,” Hermione giggled at the ridiculousness of it all, “I’m just glad to be back.”

“We should probably head down to breakfast,” Harry moved over and grabbed her hand within his, “get this over with, yeah?”

“Sure.”

The entirety of Gryffindor moved through the castle and towards the Great Hall, with Harry and Hermione leading the procession. Hermione was touched. It was like they were showing their solidarity for she and Harry after everything that had happened. Hermione was fairly certain there would be some backlash from those who staunchly refused to believe anything unkind about their dead Headmaster, but Hermione didn’t care. 

The wizard had deserved to die.

She felt horrible for feeling that way.

When they reached the Great Hall, Draco was just outside, waiting for her with a pleased smirk on his face.

“Hi.” His voice in her mind was smooth as silk.

“Hi, yourself.”

Draco nodded to Potter and Weasley and then took his witch’s arm, to escort her properly into the Great Hall. Once he’d dropped her off at her normal spot at the Gryffindor table, he moved to his usual post next to Theo and Blaise.

“Where’s Daphne?”

“She’s at the Ministry.” Blaise said quietly, his expression pinched. “Apparently Madame Bones wanted to speak with her, so Professor Snape took her himself. She should be back before lunch.”

Draco reached for an apple and sliced it while Blaise continued to talk about how Daphne was faring. His own expression must’ve been worrisome, because Hermione’s voice entered his thoughts as he was sipping on his tea.

“You okay?”

“Fine, love. Blaise was just mentioning that Daphne had to go to the Ministry this morning with Severus. She should be back soon.”

“Oh, well that’s to be expected, I suppose.” There was a heartbeat of silence before Hermione asked, “You don’t think she’s going to avoid me, do you?”

“No. But perhaps it might be a good idea to take her aside and let her know you’re not upset. She feels awful about the whole thing and from what Father has speculated? Lord Greengrass will be out for blood.”

“As he should be.” Hermione’s internal voice was filled with utter self-righteousness and Draco smiled at how she still sounded at times—like the know-it-all swot she’d been when they were younger.

“What’s so amusing?”

He lifted his head and his eyes caught and held Hermione’s as he winked at her, enjoying her blush. “Just thinking about your bossy voice and how adorable it is.”

“You didn’t always think that way.”

“No, that’s true. But I can think of a few instances where I might enjoy you bossing me around.”

He watched as her blush deepened, but her mouth lifted into a half-smile and he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful she was.

“My birthday is in a couple days.” He felt it prudent to remind her, and she shook her head at him.

“I’m not going to tell you what I have planned for your birthday, Draco!” Her voice was exasperated, but playful as she admonished him. “We both have a free period after lunch, and I told you to meet me in the Astronomy Tower at three. You don’t have a last minute Quidditch practice scheduled, right?”

“We are practicing after dinner tonight and have a quick run through Friday evening to go over strategy. But I’m all yours Thursday.”

“Good! I’m looking forward to it.”

Draco broke the connection as he finished up his breakfast and once he was done, he went to grab his book bag when the owls swooped in to deliver the post.

His owl dropped off a letter from his Father and a copy of the Daily Prophet. With a heavy scowl, he immediately noticed the headline on the front of the paper.

_ **Albus Dumbledore in cahoots with Death Eaters?** _

_ **By: Rita Skeeter** _

_ _

_ **In a stunning development, readers...it has come to this reporters attention that Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore was killed yesterday morning in a skirmish at McKinnon Manor, where he—and escaped convict and Death Eater Antonin Dolohov—had taken captive, Hermione Marlene Prewett for reasons as heretofore yet, aren’t known. The Minister for Magic, the honorable Rufus Scrimgeour gave a statement late last night, explaining that Miss Prewett, along with Mr. Harry Potter—the Boy Who Lived—were abducted in Hogsmeade Saturday by Thorfinn Rowle, with the aid of his sister Therese Rowle; as well as Pansy Parkinson and Olivia Shardlow.** _

_ **The details have been sketchy as to Dumbledore’s complicity, his role and motivations behind the kidnapping of Miss Prewett and Mr. Potter. The one other piece of news that we can certify is that both Thorfinn Rowle and Antonin Dolohov were killed as well. The heir to the Rowle family was slain by the wand of the Russian Death Eater and Madame Bones—the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, was asked as to the particulars of the other rumors that are swirling, and her statement stated only that those involved would be tried in front of the Wizengamot by weeks end.** _

_ **Many a rumor has persisted for decades as to the location and secrets of McKinnon Manor. There are very few alive who have visited the grounds, as the charms protecting the ancestral property are said to rival those of Hogwarts itself. What we do know, is that Miss Prewett was returned safely to her family at some point yesterday and would be returning to finish her studies at Hogwarts.** _

_ **I for one readers, look forward to bringing you all the salacious details as this drama unfolds!** _

_ **Stay tuned!** _

Draco set the paper down and then opened the letter from his Father.

_ **Draco,** _

_ **You will need to make yourself available later this afternoon to come and give your formal statement at the Ministry. Lady Prewett will be letting Hermione and Mr. Potter know that they will be expected as well. Amelia has agreed to allow you all to submit memories in lieu of testimony since both you and Mr. Potter are still underage, and she feels Hermione has suffered enough.** _

_ **I will keep you appraised of the Wizengamot proceedings as they develop. Both Lord Nott and I have been able to stress the importance that those individuals involved be punished to the fullest extent of the law. You can let Hermione know that Miss Parkinson will likely, be serving a minimum of twenty years for her use of an unforgivable. Lord Greengrass is also insisting that compensatory damages be paid to his family through his solicitor.** _

_ **Miss Rowle has been informed of her brother’s demise and as expected, she was at first inconsolable, then livid. She has made threats against Hermione, as has Lord Rowle.** _

_ ** Needless to say, all will be handled in short order.** _

_ **Miss Shardlow has been a bit more apologetic, and her Mother has indicated her censure of her daughter’s actions and has vowed to uphold the rulings of the Wizengamot.** _

_ **Lord Parkinson, through his solicitor, has made overtures of conciliation with the caveat that Miss Parkinson will be left to fend for herself. Apparently, he is more concerned with saving face then his daughter’s well-being. I have not approached Lady Prewett in this regard, as I’m fairly certain what her answer would be, so I leave it to you and Hermione to decide.** _

_ **You did mention hoping to gain some political leverage for the future, yes? Perhaps a vow of some kind might be a wise idea, should you intend to pursue those goals?** _

_ **I will see you later today.** _

_ **Your Father** _

Draco placed the letter in his bag, and headed out of the Great Hall to make his way to his first class when he was stopped by Potter’s voice calling him.

“Malfoy?”

Turning around to face the former bane of his existence, Draco inquired, “What can I do for you, Potter?”

“You got notified?”

“Yes.”

Harry nodded. “Aunt Muriel wanted to make sure that Hermione came with us both, but she didn’t say why. Do you know?”

Draco hummed in the affirmative. “Apparently there’s been a few threats.”

“Do I want to know by whom?”

“Not really.”

“Am I going to be unhappy with how this gets handled?”

Draco lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “Tell me Potter? What would you do to protect your sister?”

Harry didn’t even hesitate when he growled out, “Anything necessary.”

“Good. So would I.”

Harry nodded, his emerald green eyes glinted knowingly, but to his credit—he didn’t ask for an elaboration nor an explanation...he just clapped Draco on the shoulder and walked back into the Great Hall.

Draco stared at the git completely stunned...

_Did he just have a moment with Scarhead?_

Shite! 

He internally snickered.

The things he did for his witch...

The rest of the morning dragged as Draco went to his classes, and he didn’t see Hermione again until just before lunch as she came down from her Arithmancy class and he had finished Herbology. After they’d finished their midday meal, they headed to Charms together.

“So Harry said you got a letter too?”

“Yes, from my Father.”

“Are you worried about going to the Ministry?”

“No, I think it’ll be pretty straightforward.” 

Draco didn’t think it would be a good idea to share his concerns about Lord Rowle, but he had to wonder what Hermione would think if she found out after the fact, especially if he’d known.

“Draco?” She stopped him and pulled them both towards a secluded spot behind a suit of armor. “If something is going on, I just wish you’d tell me.”

“I don’t want you to worry, love.”

“I’ll worry more if I think you’re keeping secrets from me.”

It was hard to argue with that logic. 

Draco had made the leap with his Gift of Fidelity that he wouldn’t hide from his witch. Not his emotions, nor who he was fundamentally deep down. Sighing, he pulled out his Father’s letter and handed it to Hermione and watched closely, as she read over the words—her expression at first shocked, then dismayed.

Then resigned.

“Your Father seems to think the Rowle’s are going to be an issue.”

“They will be.”

“I’m not sure how to feel about that.”

“I don’t expect you to, love. You just have to understand that my Father took an unbreakable vow to protect you. If that old bastard did one decent thing in all this insanity? It was getting my Father to take that vow.”

“I don’t understand?”

Draco glanced around furtively for a moment, before erecting a privacy ward. “As I’m sure you’re aware from our conversation earlier in the year, that Wizarding vows and oaths have different meanings and consequences not only for the person who receives the vow, but for the giver as well. For an unbreakable vow, think of it as a free pass in a roundabout way. A wizard or witch can’t go against the vow. To do so, would cause that individual to _die_. So if my Father is convinced that someone means to harm you fatally or otherwise, it gives him some latitude in how he’s able to deal with it.”

“That’s barbaric!”

“Yes it can be, which is why the majority of witches and wizards don’t agree to participating in an unbreakable vow. My Father has the mark of the vow. If the Rowle’s do try and do something untoward, Father is bound to intercede.”

“And would he be punished for it?”

“If he were to use an unforgivable? Probably. But even then, it would be tricky to prove that he wasn’t justified.”

“I don’t understand any of this.”

“You wouldn’t have, my love,” Draco was quick to reassure, “we will learn about this next year in Charms class, but for the most part...Wizarding oaths and vows are taught in most Pureblood Households.”

“I do remember Theo mentioning that too.”

“I know.”

Draco cancelled the spell and together they made their way class, and when it was done they went with Harry to Minerva’s office.

The new Headmistress seemed rather tired and melancholy as she waved them towards her floo.

“Your family will be waiting for you on the other side.”

“Thank you, Professor.” Hermione replied politely.

“You’re welcome, Miss Prewett. And for what it’s worth? I’m so sorry about what happened. In all the years I knew Albus, it is hard to fathom that I really didn’t know the man as well as I thought I did.”

“I think we all feel that way, Professor.”

Minerva nodded in resignation. “Although from what Amelia has shared, I am happy for you both in having your Godfather returned to you. I hope he’s behaving himself with Hagrid.”

“I think Padfoot is just happy to be here.” Harry admitted.

“Well, just be warned that Sirius won’t be able to return back next year. I do understand his need to be close to you both due to everything that has transpired, but he will need to figure out how to do so on his own soon enough.”

“We understand.” Hermione agreed readily. “I’m hoping Remus will be able to keep him in check and occupied.”

The look Minerva gave them didn’t inspire much confidence that she agreed with that sentiment, but all she said was, “Well, off you go. You may return through here when you’re done.”

“Thank you, Professor.”

“It’s not a problem, Miss Prewett. Give my best to Muriel.”

“We will.”

Hermione watched Harry go through the floo first, and she followed next. When she stepped out into the Ministry atrium, the first person she noticed was Harry standing there...looking very unhappy—then the flashes from the photographers cameras blinded her momentarily as she closed her eyes shut and felt someone pull her to the side. The whoosh of the floo sounded, and then she sensed Draco as he moved over to her quickly and enveloped her into his side.

That was when the shouting of the reporters started in earnest.

“_Miss Prewett, is it true that you were kidnapped by Albus Dumbledore?”_

“**Mr. Malfoy, is it true that you and Miss Prewett are betrothed and that you’re Miss Prewett’s ancillary?**

“_**Mr. Potter, is it true that Sirius Black is alive?”**_

The barrage of questions were non-stop until they got across the atrium and arrived at the Ministry elevators, which thankfully, Draco’s Father and Lord Nott were there waiting for them with Muriel.

“Vultures.” Muriel hissed as someone yelled something at her and she put her hand up to silence the horde.

“Quiet!” She shouted, and Hermione was amazed at how well she seemed to control the rabid pack of gossipmongers. “There will be _no_ statement given today, so I suggest you wait until the trials are done and if you can refrain from harassing myself and my family until then? Perhaps I might be inclined to offer an interview. But if you don’t? I will sic my family solicitors on anyone who prints even the least bit of salacious innuendo and falsehoods. Is that to be _understood?”_

By the harsh glare on her Grandmother’s face, and by the put out groaning of the reporters standing there...Hermione had a pretty good idea they got the message loud and clear.

Muriel nodded and moved her family into the nearest Ministry elevator and they headed for the DMLE, where Amelia was waiting.

“How do you do that?” Harry wondered out loud.

“Years of practice, Nephew.”

“Well I think it’s _brilliant_.” Harry offered with a genuine smile.

“Why thank you for that assessment.” Muriel snarked as the grate opened and she ushered them out into the Auror Department.

“Wotcher, Hermione!” A female voice called, and the witch in question smiled as she saw Tonks heading her way.

“Hi, Tonks.”

The metamorphmagus enveloped her into a quick hug, then did the same for Harry. 

When she got to Draco, Tonks just gave him the patented Black family smirk and drawled out, “Cousin, it’s good to see you.”

“Cousin.”

“Is this how Blacks greet each other?” Hermione quipped with a tinge of sarcasm, causing Harry to snicker and Lucius to nod.

“You should’ve seen Cissy’s father and brothers.”

“Well, there is a portrait of Walburga at Grimmauld Place. She’s a right piece of work.”

Draco gaped at Harry, and Hermione noticed her grandmother, as well as Lucius and Thoros grimace in disgust at the mention of the witch.

“I take it she wasn’t popular.”

“It’s déclassé to speak ill of the dead,” Muriel snidely remarked, “but sometimes exceptions have to be made.”

Hermione snorted and even Draco chuckled at that comment.

“Anyway,” Tonks interrupted, “I’m here to escort you to Amelia’s office.”

“Then lead the way.”

They all followed Tonks to the end of the hallway, where several large offices were located. As they approached the center one at the end of the corridor, the door swung open and a large blonde man stepped out—his expression thunderous. 

When he saw the group, he sneered hatefully at them all.

“So, what have we here? If it isn’t your mudblood raised Heir, Muriel.”

Draco felt Hermione’s distress, and his gaze narrowed at the other wizard. 

Thorbjorn Rowle was a large wizard, a full head taller than his own father. 

Menacing, with a large scar down his left cheek that he insisted he’d received in fighting off a manticore.

“Rowle.” Lucius drawled in warning, but the other wizard just narrowed his gaze. “Your anger while understandable, is _misdirected_.”

“And just how do you figure that, Malfoy? Your son strung my daughter along...”

“I did _nothing_ of the sort.” Draco growled. “Therese never told me that your family was seeking out a betrothal for her. I had to find it out from Thorfinn, when he wrote to me and asked me my intentions. Your daughter tried to trap me into a compromising situation, and when I realized what she was trying to do, I ended my association with her.”

“That’s a lie!”

“And yet, it’s not.” Draco demanded stoically. “I am sorry about Thorfinn. But that was Dolohov who killed him, likely at the behest of Dumbledore. You want to be angry, fine. But blame the ones responsible.”

Thorbjorn turned to the elder Malfoy and spat, “You let your boy speak for you?”

Lucius just smirked smugly. “My son is more than capable of defending the truth.”

“We will _see_ about that.” Rowle’s expression morphed into something truly vile as he stomped off in fury.

“Nice guy.” Harry deadpanned, and Hermione giggled softly even though her heart was racing like mad.

“I’m sorry, Princess.”

“Don’t be, Draco. Small minds don’t bother me.”

At that moment, Amelia emerged from her office with Gawain Robards.

“I’m sorry to keep you waiting.”

“Did you mean to set that up, Amelia?” Muriel inquired lowly, taking care that only those in their immediate party could hear the question.

The Head of the DMLE didn’t reply, as she waved her hand towards her office and when Hermione glanced over her shoulder, the entire Auror pool was watching them and had obviously heard Lord Rowle’s statements.

Once everyone was inside, Amelia offered tea and then got down to business.

“I know you understand why I’ve asked each of you here. If you’re willing, Gawain will collect the memories and will store them in the Auror vault for the trials.”

Everyone nodded, and once the memories were taken...Amelia sat back and sighed.

“Is there anything else I need to know about, before I release you here this afternoon?”

Draco cleared his throat softly and said, “I would request a formal Wizengamot petition to reinstate Lord Sirius Black to his rightful place as Head of the Black family.” 

Both Harry and Hermione wore identical stunned expressions as they gasped in unison.

“Does he wish for the Lordship returned?” Amelia inquired with a soft smile.

“Probably not. He was burnt off the family tree, but as the current Lord Black, it is within my rights to reinstate him to his birthright. Perhaps if he is given the _option_, he might rise to the challenge.”

Draco heard his Father cough behind him, but thankfully he didn’t speak.

“You really think Sirius would want this?” Hermione inquired warily.

“I did ask him directly, and he didn’t say no.” Draco clarified. “He needs to be given a chance. One in which he wasn’t given as a young man. He was wrongfully imprisoned for twelve years, and then killed trying to defeat the Dark Lord. He was an Auror before he was sent to Azkaban, and it’s my understanding that Potter here wants to join the ranks after graduation? Perhaps it’s a place to start, yes?”

Everyone sat there gobsmacked. Hermione however, was staring at her wizard as if he’d captured the stars and given them to her, so Draco figured his plan was a solid one.

He expected he’d be handsomely rewarded for it too.

He was a consummate Slytherin, after all.

“We will speak with Sirius.” Amelia nodded, her expression both thoughtful and impressed.

“That is all I ask.”

As they all made to leave, Harry came over and gave Draco a considering look as he whispered under his breath, “Whatever it is you’re planning, Malfoy? I want in on it.”

Draco didn’t respond, but his smugger than smug smirk let Harry know that he was spot on!


	84. Best Birthday Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco comes of age.

As dawn of Thursday June 5 came, Hermione woke up in her dorm room with a sense of excited anticipation. As if her magic had been waiting for this day all year, there was a happy smile on her face and a spring to her step as she hopped out of bed and grabbed her school robes to get ready for the day.

Her dorm mates were all watching her with bemused expressions on their faces as Hermione whistled happily to herself, completely oblivious as to how she appeared.

“Someone’s in a _good_ mood this morning.” Lavender snickered and Hermione turned around from where she was placing her books for her morning classes into her book bag.

“What?”

“You,” Pavarti winked, “you are glowing.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You really are, Hermione,” Faye was quick to agree, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this happy.”

“Oh, well...” Hermione cleared her throat in embarrassment, as her cheeks flushed, “it’s a good day.”

“The day hasn’t even officially started yet.” Lavender was quick to clarify, and Hermione just stuck her tongue out as the other girls laughed.

Sighing, Hermione sat down at the edge of her bed and gripped her hands together in a show of nervous energy.

“Draco’s birthday is today.”

“We _know_.” Pavarti deadpanned.

“Nice,” Hermione huffed but forged ahead. “Anyway, I have a surprise for his birthday.”

“What kind of surprise?”

Hermione didn’t reply right away, and Lavender’s eyes widened as she realized just what Hermione wasn’t saying.

“Look, Hermione,” Lavender began hesitantly, “I know things have been a bit different this year for you and I know we haven’t always been the closest of friends, but you can trust us. Witches Oath. Whatever you choose to share with us remains between us.”

Both Faye and Pavarti nodded emphatically in agreement.

“Really?” Hermione inquired softly, “Because the truth is, I don’t have many friends that are witches. I guess I’ve always been more comfortable with wizard’s.”

“Harry and Ron, you mean.” Faye snorted, and Hermione rolled her eyes and nodded.

“Yeah, but we all know Ron has the emotional range of a teaspoon.”

“That’s generous.” Pavarti snarked sarcastically, “Ron is not the most sympathetic wizard, that’s for sure.”

“No, but he’s a good friend.”

The three witches didn’t argue the point but Lavender stood up and walked over to sit next to Hermione on her bed, taking her hand and giving it a comforting squeeze.

“Look, if you have planned what I think you do, then it might be a good idea if we help you with a few things.”

“Like?”

So Lavender elaborated her ideas, and between she, Pavarti and Faye—Hermione felt a bit better and definitely more prepared with her gift for Draco.

When she left to go to the Great Hall for breakfast, Harry and Ron went with her.

Daphne was waiting for her at the end of the staircases, and Hermione was quick to go over and give the Slytherin witch a hug.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Daphne grinned. “I was wondering if you wanted to come and have breakfast with me this morning at the Slytherin table.”

“Seriously?” Hermione queried, “Is that even allowed?”

“No, not usually but I thought it might be a fun idea since it is Draco’s birthday, and I asked the Headmistress for permission as well as my Head of House.”

“Snape agreed?”

“Surprisingly, yes.”

Hermione glanced over at Harry and said, “I’m going to have breakfast with Daphne.”

“What?” Ron interrupted with a scowl. “You can’t eat with the snakes!”

“Ronald, I’ll be fine besides...Daphne got permission.”

Ron went to say something else, but Harry just grabbed his best friend’s arm. “Come on, Ron, before you just say something that’s going to infuriate Mione into hexing you.”

“But...Harry...”

“Come on, Ron!”

Hermione watched her brother drag Ronald towards the Gryffindor table, with a lopsided grin on her face. Then she followed Daphne to the Slytherin table, ignoring the surprised faces of those within the Great Hall as she sat down facing the Gryffindor table. Neville, Dean and Seamus just gave her funny looks—as they clearly seemed confused. Harry leant over and whispered something to them, and Hermione noticed they appeared to accept whatever it was he’d said.

Ron was still glowering unhappily though.

It was about ten minutes later when Draco sauntered in, looking impeccable and clearly not paying attention to all the interested stares being sent his way. When he got to his normal spot, he smirked when he noticed Hermione sitting in his designated place.

“Hello, love, did you lose a bet?”

“No, snake, Daphne asked me to join her this morning and I agreed.”

Draco slipped effortlessly over the bench and took his seat, then placing a sweet kiss on her cheek in greeting.

“And here I thought this was a nice surprise for my Birthday.”

“Oh! Is that today?” Hermione placed her hand on her chest in feigned shock. “I knew I’d forgotten something.”

Theo, who had just caught the end of her spiel, sat down across from his cousin and chuckled.

“Cousin.”

“Theodore.”

“Birthday boy.”

“Shove it, Nott.”

Several snorts and coughs echoed down the Slytherin table, but before Hermione could speak...she noticed Sally coming over with a small package in her hand.

A few of the Slytherins sneered at the tiny Muggleborn, but Draco just smiled when he saw her.

“Hey, kiddo.”

“Hi, Mr. Draco. Happy Birthday!”

Sally shoved out her hand with the gift and Draco lifted an eyebrow as he took it with a murmur of thanks.

“You didn’t have to get me a gift, Sally.”

“That’s okay. From what I’ve been learning, seventeen is a big deal for a witch or wizard.”

Draco smirked as he side-eyed his witch, who was grinning widely at him.

“That’s what I’ve heard, too.” He bit back playfully.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” Blaise interrupted and Draco threw a disgruntled glare his way, but nodded all the same as he opened the gift. The wrapping was in green, and it had a cute silver bow which Draco thought adorable. When the paper was off, he noticed the book within and his brow furrowed as he didn’t recognize the title nor the author.

“It’s a muggle book.” Hermione whispered to him, and Draco nodded again.

“The Once and Future King, by T.H. White.”

“It’s a muggle story about Merlin.”

“Really?” Draco’s eyes widened in surprise.

“Yep.” Sally grinned. “It’s a good one and I think you’ll like it a lot.”

Draco bowed his head in appreciation. “Thank you, Sally. I love it and will read it over the summer. We can talk about it when school gets back in the fall.”

“That’d be cool.”

Hermione watched as Sally left to go back to the Gryffindor table, and Draco placed his gift in his book bag with a small smile.

“That was awfully sweet of her.” Daphne pointed out and Draco hummed in agreement.

“She’s a good kid.” He then turned his attention to his witch and said pointedly, “Are we still on for this afternoon?”

“Yes, dear. I haven’t forgotten.”

“Good. I’m looking forward to seeing just what my present is going to be.”

Hermione bit her lip, but didn’t reply. She was hoping that Draco would like his gift but she was probably just being silly.

She had no doubt the prat would love it.

She just wasn’t sure despite her anxiety, that she could wait patiently for the next seven hours to pass. It was hard enough to tamp down the butterflies swarming in her stomach at the thought of what awaited them both.

For the first time in her school life, Hermione was completely distracted as classes dragged on that morning. Professor McGonagall had asked her a question, and she’d been so distracted she hadn’t even heard her name being called upon, until Harry elbowed her and gave her a disbelieving look.

Thankfully, she’d done the reading and was able to recite the answer from memory.

Defense hadn’t been much better.

She had the class with Draco, and if he noticed her being fidgety, he wisely didn’t comment on it.

Professor Snape however, had given her one of his patented sneers as she left the class.

She hadn’t fared much better at lunch as she picked through her food.

Harry and Ron both asked her if she was alright, to which she nodded absently and tried to force down a few bites of her cottage pie.

Runes was more of the same—with Theo sitting next to her giving her an incredulous look as she doodled hearts and flowers on the cover of her notebook.

When class was finally over, Hermione bolted from the room and disapparated back up to Gryffindor Tower, went inside...took a quick shower and rubbed her favorite lotion on—picked out her best set of knickers and matching bra along with a pretty lavender sundress and white wedged heels and made her way to the Astronomy Tower where Draco was waiting.

His eyes widened briefly at her appearance, but then his smirk fell easily into place.

“You look beautiful, Princess.” He then glanced around in confusion. “Although I’ll admit, I was expecting something else instead of an empty parapet.”

“We’re not staying here.”

“What?”

“Your gift isn’t here...we are going elsewhere.”

“Okay?”

Draco watched as Hermione floated over the rampart, and then she reached for his hand—which he gave instantly. Draco wasn’t the least bit afraid of heights, but walking out into the air without a broom or using his wand was a bit surreal.

Hermione giggled at his awed expression.

“You ready?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“Not if you want your gift.”

“Then lead the way, Princess. I’m all yours.”

Hermione wrapped her arms around her wizard and closed her eyes...allowing her magic to build up and in a flash of heat and flame...they were gone.

When they re-emerged, Draco gazed around as he instantly recognized where they were at.

“Does your Grandmother know we’re here?”

Hermione nodded. “She does. She had Sabbo set up everything for us.”

Linking hands, Hermione led Draco back towards the family stones that she’d taken him to the other night. Sabbo had erected a special Wizarding tent inside the barrier of the stones and had placed supplies inside for their time together. When they reached their destination, Draco just lifted his mouth with a quick quirk, but followed her inside.

“This is nice.” He said after a moment.

And it was.

The tent on the outside wasn’t much bigger that twice the size of a muggle telephone booth, but inside it was the size of a large suite. There was a dining area, with a simple table for two. Some elvish wine had been left, as well as a tray of Corky’s pastries and tartlets. There was sparkling water, fresh fruit with sweet cream all under a stasis charm. A small, walled off area led into a quaint loo with a tub—and in the far back, was a large bed.

Draco eyed everything, his expressionless mask in place as he took in the intimate setting for two.

When he turned around to face his witch, he could see and feel the nervousness in her eyes and body, and his countenance softened.

“Are you sure, Princess?”

“You don’t want to?”

Draco shook his head. “I didn’t say that.”

He moved over and wrapped his hands around Hermione’s waist and pulled her into his body, joining her lips to his in a drugging kiss that lasted for several minutes. When he pulled his head back slightly, he made sure to simultaneously rub his body against his witch’s, allowing her to feel just how much he wanted her.

Her blush was simply adorable.

“Can you _feel_ how much I want this?”

Hermione nodded, as she bit her lip and gazed up into stormy grey eyes.

“I want this too. It’s all I’ve been able to think about since Monday night. I don’t want to wait any longer. This feels right, doesn’t it?”

Draco returned the gesture and without warning, swept his witch up into his arms bridal style and stalked back towards the bed. He didn’t waste a second—laying Hermione down on the soft duvet and climbing onto the bed with her, before rejoining their mouths in a heated snog.

As before, the magic of the Prewett family stones hummed with anticipation as it felt the magic of its young Mistress and her wizard as they lost themselves to the feel and pull of her elemental magic. Clothes were discarded, but Hermione had no idea how that had happened. All she knew was the taste, smell and feel of Draco as she kissed and nipped along his neck, chest and abdomen. She giggled as he took control and returned the favor, lavishing attention where her neck and shoulder met—clearly leaving a mark. When he reached her breasts, he teased her with his fingers and mouth until she was a needy, squirming mess. As he worked his way south, Hermione gripped her hands into soft blonde hair and pulled at Draco, hearing his hiss of pained pleasure as he used his fingers and spread her folds, before diving head first into nirvana.

If Hermione thought coming by her own hand at the thought of Draco worshipping her was amazing, it was nothing compared to having him ravishing her with attention.

He was relentless.

And she _loved_ it.

He’d stop every few minutes and tease her too, which was exhilarating and frustrating in equal measure.

“How does this feel?” Draco would ask smugly, as he circled her clit with his finger.

“More...please, Draco!”

The deep chuckle that rumbled from his chest made her want to snog and smack him, but when he used that wicked tongue of his—all Hermione could do was fall back on the bed and moan out his name in desperation.

Her core throbbed with unmitigated need, and she could feel her magic thrumming with anticipation.

And when she finally came...

...she came _hard!_

“Fuck! Oh My God!”

Hermione didn’t notice Draco at first moving up over her body until he was nestled firmly between her thighs. He started to rub his thick cock through her folds, hitting her clit—which was already over-sensitive and caused her to buck up at the sensation.

“Are you ready, love?”

Hermione nodded. She wasn’t nervous as she cast the contraceptive charm that Lavender had showed her how to perform earlier that morning. It was as if this was always meant to happen, and if anything—she felt that if Draco didn’t get inside her right at this very minute, she was going to spontaneously combust from the raw need consuming her.

As he gently pushed his way inside her body, their eyes locked and Hermione’s breath caught at the overwhelming desire she saw in Draco’s face.

His expression was completely open.

He wasn’t a small wizard, and while she was very wet...nothing could’ve prepared her for this.

Her body felt like it was being split in two.

“Oh, ah...”

“Shh, love.” Draco’s voice was gentle and encouraging. “Don’t tighten up, love...please try and relax.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“No, it’s not!” He growled as his brow furrowed and Hermione could see the tension in his face and neck as Draco thrusted shallowly a few times and then moved his right hand down under her hips and titled her up slightly. The change of the angle felt better, and Hermione closed her eyes and bit her lip as she tried desperately to relax.

The second it got too much, he paused and then moved both of his arms underneath her, cupping her head. For a split second, their eyes met and then he kissed her deeply and bit her lower lip as he pushed forward—the sudden pain causing her to gasp, as tears leaked from the corner of her closed eyes.

For a few moments neither of them moved, and all Hermione could concentrate on was Draco’s breathing as he seemed to be willing himself to remain in control for her sake. But once the pain finally subsided into a dull ache, all she felt was an overwhelming fullness and an incessant need to move.

“I’m okay,” She whispered on a gasp, “please move, Draco.”

He nodded then did just that.

Slowly at first, then a bit harder as Hermione gripped onto his shoulders and started moving her body in time with his.

Then something amazing happened.

Hermione felt her body heating up in eager anticipation, and her magic was humming all over her skin...reaching out and moving across every part where she touched Draco. His eyes widened, and she knew he was feeling it too. He took her hands within his and lifted her arms over her head and kissed her again, over and over until they were both breathless as their lower bodies continued to move in perfect synchrony against each other.

As her pleasure swelled towards the breaking point, Hermione felt her magic finally let go.

And when she opened her eyes, she gasped as she and Draco were engulfed in flames which were swirling around them and licking and flickering against Draco like a lovers caress. His expression was filled with profound awe as he gazed at where their hands were joined—his skin was literally on fire.

“_Amazing_.” He whispered reverently.

Then he kissed her again, and all thoughts ceased as they both chased their own pleasure. It wasn’t but a few moments later that Hermione’s back bowed as her body shook with the force or her orgasm causing Draco to groan out in relief as he followed her over the edge.

As they laid there spent and panting, Hermione unlocked her left hand and ran it through Draco’s sweaty locks with a happy grin on her face.

For Draco’s part, he just smirked proudly as he cracked a single eye open and then collapsed into her waiting arms with a satisfied sigh of contentment.

“You’re _crushing_ me.” Hermione giggled, as she bit Draco’s ear playfully, feeling more than hearing his responding mirth as he rolled them over so she was now curled up next to him with her head on his chest.

Kissing his alabaster skin, Hermione then placed her chin on Draco’s chest and said sweetly, “Happy Birthday, my love.”

“Best birthday _ever_.” Draco hummed as he gazed down lovingly, his hand rubbing along Hermione’s lower back and then he cupped her arse before he pulled her up slightly so his lips could meet hers in a searching kiss.

“When do we have to go back?” He groaned unhappily as he broke away. He didn’t want to go back to school just yet.

“We just have to be back before curfew.”

Draco’s face morphed into a pleased grin, before he got up and went into the loo. He came back out with a small basin filled with warm water and a flannel—then proceeded to carefully clean his witch.

Hermione blushed, and made to stop him—but Draco shook his head and batted her hand away.

“Let me do this,” he pleaded softly, “let me take care of you.”

Hermione felt her chest tighten with emotion at the sweet gesture.

Of all the things she had thought of Draco Malfoy?

This was something she had never imagined in her wildest dreams.

How in the world would she have ever known, how utterly considerate and loving he could be?

So all she could do was nod and watch, as Draco took his time taking care of her and making sure she was set back to rights. When he was done, he waved his wand and refreshed the bed sheets and then pulled her back into his side and kissed her with so much feeling, Hermione couldn’t stop the tears from breaking free.

Shocked, Draco moved over her and gently wiped them away.

“Did I do something wrong?”

Shaking her head, Hermione choked out a sob as she whispered emotively, “No. You did everything _right_.”

His shy smile would forever be burned into her memory.

Hermione didn’t think that Draco Malfoy had ever shown anyone other than herself, who he really was underneath all his Slytherin bravado and staunch Pureblood upbringing.

And she felt so honored to be the witch to see this side of such a mercurial wizard as he.

“I love _you_.” Her voice cracked on the last word and Draco nodded solemnly as he replied,

“I know it. I love you too, Hermione. Always.”


	85. A Promise for the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco gives Hermione something special.

If anyone had noticed them missing from dinner that Thursday evening, no one said anything in the days that followed. The only thing anyone was really interested in was the Slytherin-Gryffindor match that was scheduled for that Saturday. Hermione had internally debated whether or not to attend the match, as she wanted to support her House, but deep down—she really wanted Draco to win the Quidditch Cup at least once before he left Hogwarts.

When the day had arrived, Hermione had reluctantly decided to attend. She sat with Gryffindor, but wore Draco’s scarf and cheered for him—much to the consternation of her fellow Gryffindors—who glowered at her unhappily.

Unfortunately her cheering didn’t have the desired effect, and Slytherin lost the match 510-480 when Harry caught the snitch at the four hour mark.

Gryffindor had been beside themselves, but Hermione had slunk away unnoticed as she headed for the Slytherin locker room, and found her wizard coming out showered, with a frown marring his face.

Since their bonding, she had been able to pick up on some of Draco’s more prominent emotions, and right now she could feel his disappointment and irritation like an open wound in her chest.

When he saw her, he sighed and she ran over and threw her arms around his neck and kissed him for all she was worth.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered sadly, but Draco didn’t reply. He just held her and buried his face into her hair, inhaling her scent as he held her to him.

“We practiced so hard.” His voice was muffled into her neck as she rubbed her hands down his back soothingly.

“I know.”

He lifted his head, and Hermione’s heart broke at the raw anguish in his eyes.

Then she had an idea.

“If you had to pinpoint one thing that went wrong today, what was it?”

Draco thought about it for a moment, and sighed in defeat.

“I don’t know.”

“I do.”

He gave her a inquisitive look.

“You need to take Harry out of the equation. You were nearly there, right?”

Draco’s expression became thoughtful as he considered her words.

“Spend next year working more on scoring points. Forget about the snitch in the final. Help your teammates score more points. If Harry does catch the snitch, it won’t matter. Slytherin will still win, right?”

Draco’s eyes gleamed as he smirked wickedly and then kissed her soundly.

“How very Slytherin of you, Miss Prewett.”

She shrugged. “Maybe. But I know how much this means to you, love. I just would like to see you win once. I know how hard you’ve practiced.”

“Are you going to celebrate...”

“No,” Hermione interrupted, placing her index finger on Draco’s lips. “I’m going to spend the evening with _my_ wizard. He needs me more than some ridiculous celebration.”

“How’d I get so lucky?”

Kissing him again, Hermione chose not to answer that rhetorical question but allowed Draco to take her back with him to the Slytherin common room, where the mood was subdued.

She even got a few caustic looks thrown her way, but for the most part most of the snakes knew that she was there to support Draco in his hour of need.

“School’s done soon.” Draco drawled, as he pulled her down on his lap and moved his face into her neck again, allowing her hair to obscure him as he nipped and kissed his way along her skin.

“And?” She shivered at his attentions, a small smile creeping onto her face.

“Just stating the obvious.”

Hermione tilted her head and stared down at him.

“Why? Did you have something planned?”

“Well, I’m working with Severus this summer. But other than that, I plan on spending as much time as I can with my witch.”

“I think that can be arranged, Mr. Malfoy.”

They sat there in silence for a bit before Draco sighed and then eyed the rest of the common room en masse. Most of his classmates were hanging with their House years...while his mates were over in the corner talking amongst themselves.

He knew he had a history of being rather surly when Slytherin lost, which only seemed to happen against Gryffindor—so his fellow snakes knew to give him a wide berth.

Which he usually appreciated.

Mostly.

“How about we raid the kitchens to get something to eat?”

Hermione nodded. “I am rather famished.”

Draco helped her up then called over to his friends. “Oi! Blaise, Theo, Daphne. We’re gonna head to get some food. You guys want to join us?”

The three of them stood immediately and followed, talking about summer plans as they made their way to the kitchens. When they got there, Hermione tickled the pear on the portrait and the doorway opened, allowing them to enter inside. The Hogwarts Elves as always, were eager to make them a basket of edibles, which they took and headed with, up to the Astronomy Tower for an evening picnic.

Once situated and a blanket transfigured from Draco’s scarf, Hermione passed out the fare and the five of them ate in silence until she felt the need to ask something that had been weighing on her mind for a while.

“So, how long have you been planning on taking over the Wizengamot?”

Four sets of eyes landed on hers, three were filled with surprise but one was inordinately pleased despite being called out on his plotting.

“Not long.” Draco drawled easily, reaching for a green apple with a small smirk.

“How?” Theo inquired.

“Did I guess?”

They all nodded.

“Draco let me read a letter from Lucius recently, and that combined with his sudden willingness to allow Sirius to take over the mantle of Lord Black seemed to fit the narrative I’d been pondering.”

Blaise chuckled while Daphne just shrugged, not bothered in the least.

“Things need to change, Hermione, even you have to agree that certain traditions and ways of doing things just don’t make sense any longer?”

Hermione nodded. “I do. I’ve thought about little else this year, since I found out I was a Prewett. I was, and still am in so many ways, woefully unprepared for life in the magical world from the traditional aspect. So many things I had wished to have known, but would’ve never been privy to being raised a Muggle-born.”

“Does it bother you more now than it did before?” Theo asked lowly and Hermione had to think about that seriously.

Was she more bothered now? 

Now that she knew what she’d been denied?

“I think before, I was so consumed with being the best academically that nothing else seemed as important. I felt like I was constantly having to prove myself good enough to belong here.”

She could see Draco’s jaw clench and even Theo seemed uncomfortable.

“We were right gits.” Blaise admitted with a sigh. “I’d mentioned it to this lot a while ago, that we’d misjudged you. Made our assumptions on a faulty premise. I think that’s _why_ it was easier to go along with Draco’s plan at the beginning of the school year. I have friends in other Houses, but couldn’t really acknowledge it openly, due to prejudices. It’s not right, but things have been better this year.”

“And I hate to say it,” Theo groused out in ire, “but Dumbledore fed on those prejudices. He _encouraged_ them even. He controlled the narrative for so long as to the fact that everyone saw Slytherin House as the embodiment of all things dark and evil, that it was easier for all of us to fit into that role. All we had was each other for support.”

“I’m sorry, Theo.” Hermione gripped her cousins hand in solidarity. “I wish things had been different.”

“But they can be now.” Daphne interrupted with a firm nod. “We can effect change. It may take years, but with a good, solid plan?”

“Hence why we need to control the votes in the Wizengamot.” Draco explained.

“My Grandmother mentioned something about the Prewett family seat earlier this year.”

“Are you going to take it?” Draco asked and Hermione nodded.

“I am. If what you have planned is what I hope it will be? Then yes, I would like to help and be a part of that change.”

The Slytherin’s didn’t seem to be too shocked by her declaration, which she was grateful for. 

Draco just pulled her into his lap, his need to touch her a living, breathing thing.

Daphne and Blaise snickered, but Theo just eyed them speculatively.

Then his expression darkened noticeably as he ground out, “You’ve sealed the bond, haven’t you?”

Hermione blushed deeply in surprise by the question, but Draco just glared at his friend even though he didn’t confirm nor deny Theo’s intrusive query.

“Do you know what you’ve done?” Theo stood up and sneered down at Draco.

“He didn’t do anything, Theodore Nott!” Hermione’s voice wavered slightly, but everyone could tell she was very upset. “It was _my_ decision.”

Theo scoffed, but Hermione wasn’t having any of her cousin’s antics.

“Theo, it’s _true_. This was meant to be. Why can’t you support my decisions, even if you don’t agree with them?”

Draco didn’t say anything, but his entire body language radiated his ire at his friend. He didn’t like seeing his witch upset, but be knew Hermione well enough to know that she would want to handle this herself.

But Theo was working on his last nerve.

Theo for his part, could see Hermione’s worry as she stared him down. When he glanced over at Draco, the prat was glaring up at him like he wanted to throttle him.

“But...you both know what this means, right?”

“We _do_.” Hermione nodded.

Theo collapsed on the blanket and covered his face with his hands, causing Daphne to tsk at him.

“You’re being such a drama queen, Theodore. This has absolutely nothing to do with you. Hermione and Draco are fated, and and such we need to offer them our unwavering support.” The blonde witch then turned to her new friend and grinned. “You do know that your Grandmother and Narcissa are probably planning your wedding even as we speak.”

Hermione gaped in horror before she turned to Draco and he just nodded reluctantly, holding his hand out for his witch to take.

“Really?” She squeaked, as she was pulled down once again, into Draco’s lap.

“Yes.” He drawled confidently. “And this is not the way I had wanted this conversation to go, so thank you all for that.”

At least both Daphne and Theo had the decency to try and appear contrite.

“And how did you hope this would go?” Hermione asked quietly.

“I was planning on doing this a bit more intimately, love.”

“Oh!”

Draco sighed in resignation, but then called out, “Flixy.”

A small elf popped into the parapet, and Hermione smiled at the dainty elf, who’s small pink pillow case had a large flower on the front.

“Yes, Master.”

“Can you go to Mother and ask her for the item I requested her to get for me?”

The elf bobbed it’s head and left only to return a few moments later with a small box in its hands.

“Mistress told me to tell you Master, that she will expect you to write to her tomorrow.”

“Yes, Flixy, tell mother I will do that.”

The elf nodded and popped away, leaving Draco fiddling with the box.

“Draco...” Theo’s voice was apologetic, but Draco just sneered at him even though he didn’t reply.

Then he felt Hermione’s hand on his arm and when he looked down into her deep blue eyes, he smirked when he noticed she was biting her lip as she was wont to do when she was anxious about something.

“You don’t have to...”

“Shush, love. I was going to do this all proper, but apparently that’s _not possible now.”_

“Prat.” She grinned, but Draco shrugged as he placed the box in her hand and said, “This is for you. It’s not an engagement ring, although I suppose we are technically married at this point, but for all intents and purposes, this is more along the lines of a promise ring.”

Hermione nodded as she opened the box and inside was a ring almost exactly like Draco’s. It had the Malfoy family crest on it, and was made of goblin silver.

“In my family, this ring is given to a chosen bride to be.” Draco clarified. “It has protection spells, a locator spell and is charmed to be worn only by you. My ancestor, Armand Malfoy had a few sets of these made nearly 1000 years ago. My Father has one, and my Mother’s is the mate to it. The one I wear,” he lifted up his right hand, where the Malfoy ring was prominently on display on the third finger of his right hand, “and this is the mate to it.”

Hermione’s breath hitched as she picked up the ring from the box, and felt the magic of it accept her. Draco took it and slipped in onto her right index finger, where it instantly sized down to fit. The Malfoy family magic pulsated through her body, and she felt her eyes water at how wonderful it was...like safety, home and love. 

Draco then took her hand and kissed the back of it, his expression filled with utter adoration.

“Perfect.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Princess.” Draco then turned back to his friends, who were watching the scene with something akin to amused acceptance.

Blaise then lifted his glass in a toast.

“To my best mate and his future lady, may you always challenge each other and please try not to kill each other.”

“Nice.” Draco deadpanned.

“Just keeping it real, mate.” Blaise mocked, and everyone laughed—knowing that Blaise was only half-joking. “I will expect to be named best wizard at your wedding and Godfather to your first born.“

Hermione flexed her hand and turned Blaise’s hair pink, which had everyone there except for the wizard in question, howling like mad.

When Draco dropped Hermione off at Gryffindor Tower on his way back to Slytherin, he gave her a heated kiss in parting and asked how long Blaise’s hair would remain looking like that.

“It’ll be gone by morning.”

“Shame.” He smirked, before planting another kiss on her lips.

As she watched him leave, Hermione stared down at her new accessory, making an incredulous snort of disbelief.

She was actually going to marry Draco Malfoy!

And the amazing thing, was she was actually beyond delighted about the prospect.

Who would’ve ever thought?!?


	86. Scary and Brilliant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry and Hermione plot...with a little bit of help from Muriel.

The next few weeks flew by and before Hermione knew it, it was time to return home to Fosgate Hall. Harry was dreading it however, as he wasn’t exactly looking forward to helping to plan the Garden Party that would be required of both he and his sister.

The trials for Pansy, Olivia and Therese had yielded a mixed bag of results.

Adrian had made it his mission to see to it that all three witches paid for their part in Hermione’s abduction and had worked closely with Lord Greengrass’s solicitor to make sure the punishments fit the crime.

Pansy had been sentenced to Azkaban for ten years, which had been surprising only inasmuch as everyone thought she’d be incarcerated much longer. Yet due to her age, the Wizengamot had decided on a shorter stint in Azkaban and a longer probationary sentence. She would essentially be on House Arrest for ten years after her prison sentence and her wand would be monitored for an additional ten years after her confinement was completed.

She also had to pay a fine to Daphne Greengrass of fifty thousand galleons.

Lord Parkinson had negotiated a lighter sentence for himself, which included a hefty fine of two hundred thousand galleons, and probation. And in return, Draco got the wizard to agree to a Wand Oath that the man would offer his unconditional support for any changes Draco wished to bring forth to the Wizengamot.

Therese had been sentenced to three years in Azkaban and another ten on probation with wand restrictions, along with a considerable fine of ten thousand galleons.

Lord Rowle had been incensed and had _vowed_ to get revenge.

Both Lucius and Thoros were watching the wizard closely.

Olivia Shardlow had been sentenced to six years probation with wand restrictions. She was the only one who’d managed to evade expulsion from Hogwarts, with the caveat that she would finish her studies at home.

Her mother had been immensely grateful and relieved by that fact, as well as the provision that there was no monetary fine assigned.

Adrian had however, confronted Olivia directly once her hearing was done, and while he wouldn’t admit to what was said—Olivia Shardlow had agreed that once her probation was completed, she would leave England for _good_.

Padfoot had been incensed initially, when Amelia had come calling on him the week after summer hols had started. She had shared Draco’s generous offer, and as expected, Sirius had staunchly refused to take his title as _Head of House Black_—back.

“But, Padfoot?” Hermione had lamented the following evening at dinner. It was just she, Harry and Muriel along with Sirius and Remus. Tonks was busy working and Andromeda and Ted had left for Greece on a much needed holiday. “Why don’t you want to? Don’t you think it might be a good idea to make sure that what happened to you doesn’t ever happen to anyone else ever again?”

“Low blow, little kitten.” Sirius shook his head. “I don’t have any desire to play nice with the Pureblood snobs at the Ministry.”

“And what about Harry and me?” Hermione continued on. “You’ve agreed for resume your Auror training once Harry goes back to school in the fall. Think of all the good you can do!”

Sirius just leveled his most disgusted look at both she and Harry, but Remus was chuckling at how ridiculous his best mate was being.

“I mean, think about it? I was thinking we could start with werewolf rights! And then maybe some early childhood integration programs for Muggleborns. Think of how much _better_ it would be for them to learn about our world sooner! Maybe change some of the Hogwarts curriculum?”

Padfoot smirked at how much like her mother Hermione appeared in that moment.

Always fighting for the little guy, was Marlene.

Always trying to be better and do better.

He side-eyed Remus, who was gazing at Hermione fondly—his eyes shining with nostalgia.

“She’s so much like Marley it’s scary, innit it?” Sirius whispered under his breath, knowing that Moony could hear him due to his werewolf traits. Remus nodded, watching as Hermione continued to pontificate on all the things she wanted to change.

“Are you listening to me, Padfoot?”

“Of course, kitten. Just caught up in the past for a bit. You’re so like your Mum sometimes, it just tugs at my heart.”

“Oh!” Hermione bit her lip and then sighed. “Do you regret?”

“No,” Sirius was quick to reply, knowing exactly where Hermione was going with that question. “If anything, I’m thrilled to be able to watch both you and Harry grow up and have families of your own. I never thought in a million years it’d be my cousin, but surprisingly Draco seems like a decent kid. Which I’m still having a hard time dealing with, since his Father is a right piece of work.”

“Lucius Malfoy would never have been my choice for a Father-in-Law,” Hermione admitted reluctantly. Even knowing what she did after watching Draco’s memories, it still didn’t completely absolve Lucius of all the hateful things he’d done, in her humble opinion. “But, I think he’s trying to do better. Even if it is small steps.”

“That wizard is the consummate Slytherin,” Muriel interrupted, “but he values family and tradition. He loves his wife and son very much.”

“I know.” Hermione agreed. “That’s why I’m deferring judgment. I love Draco, and I want us to have a good life together.”

“I still can’t believe you’re bonded to the ferret.” Harry quipped, earning a scowl from his sister and a chortle from their Godfather.

“When’s the wedding?” Remus piped in, and Hermione blushed while Muriel just tutted at the segue.

“Next summer, after they graduate.”

“Grandmother...”

“My dearest girl,” Muriel began, and Hermione could hear the admonishment in her tone, “you are _bonded_. Whilst I’m hopeful contraceptive charms and potions will work, I’m not convinced they will work forever. It’s been two days since you’ve seen Draco, how is your magic faring?”

Hermione scowled as she replied unhappily, “On edge.”

“Because your magic is missing its other half. You will need to be married sooner rather than later. From what Minerva has shared, you and your betrothed will be Co-Heads when term resumes. You will have private quarters. I think Draco would agree, that a marriage once you’re done with school would be _prudent_.”

Hermione nodded, as she didn’t want to argue the point.

“And have you and Lady Malfoy decided where the ceremony is to take place?”

“Malfoy Manor.” Muriel felt there was no need to prevaricate the issue. “Your Magic has blessed the lands here and at McKinnon Manor. Your marriage bonds will fortify the wards at Malfoy Manor for centuries to come. Your first-born will be the heir to the Malfoy name.”

“About that,” Hermione remembered a bit of what her Grandmother had mentioned during the contract negotiations with Lord Malfoy, “what did you and Lucius finally decide upon.”

“You mean, when it comes to your and Draco’s children?”

“Assuming we have more than one, yes.”

Muriel took a sip of her wine and felt the collective eyes of everyone weighing upon her. She grinned in satisfaction as she shared the truth.

“Lucius Malfoy is a stubborn wizard. At first he couldn’t see the wisdom nor the necessity of equating a similar value on a female heir to that of a male. That being said,” Muriel put her hand up when she noted her granddaughter’s look of displeasure, “I was able to convince him of the sagacity of such a codicil.”

“How?”

“By reminding him of a simple undeniable truth.”

“Which was?” Sirius interrupted, as he too was beyond curious as to how Muriel had bested Lucius Malfoy.

“That if he didn’t agree to the terms, his wife would make his life a living hell.”

Sirius broke down in riotous laughter, while Remus just shook his head and both Harry and Hermione sat back stunned.

“Would Narcissa Malfoy really...” Harry asked.

“_Yes!” _Was replied instantaneously by Muriel, Sirius and Remus.

“Narcissa loves Draco more than _anything_ in this world. There is _nothing_ she wouldn’t do for her son.” Muriel clarified, and Hermione could only silently agree. She’d seen enough of Draco’s memories to know how much Narcissa loved him. “And according to Narcissa, Draco had made his preference known to her last summer.”

“Did he tell her as such?” Hermione wondered aloud, but Muriel shook her head.

“Not in words, but in action,” Muriel elaborated shrewdly, “apparently the night of the Summer Ball, the moment you walked into the room, dearest, and she saw her son’s reaction—she _knew_. Once you had decided on giving Draco a chance, I had tea with Narcissa and shared my concerns with her. I knew Lucius would use all his talents at manipulation to try and negotiate a contract for his sole benefit and that of the Malfoy line, but I counted on the fact that for all his faults—the man worships the ground his wife walks on.”

“And you used it to your advantage.” Sirius winked, impressed in spite of himself.

“Of course I did.”

Both Hermione and Harry just grinned at each other, before Harry piped up and said, “You’re brilliant and scary, Aunt Muriel. Just like Hermione.”

“Why thank you, Dear. I’m so glad you approve.” Muriel then turned her full attention back to Hermione. “So, yes—if you have more than one child, then the contract states that whether that child be male or female—they will carry the Prewett name and be the Heir to this House. If you have a third child, then that child will become the presumptive Heir to the McKinnon estate.”

“And if Mione has a fourth child?”

“Hush your mouth, Harry James Potter!” Hermione demanded, but she blushed too as she eventually sent an inquisitive look to her Grandmother.

“Well, that would be up to you and Draco but...” Muriel glanced over at Sirius and then said thoughtfully, “do you plan on having any children of your own, Sirius?”

The Maurader blanched, paled and coughed out uncomfortably.

“I’ll take that as a ‘_no_’—correct?”

Sirius then blushed profusely, but didn’t deny the assumption.

“Then perhaps the Black family could do with an Heir of its own.” Muriel concluded, with a pleased little smile.

Hermione glanced over at Padfoot, and his expression was somewhat thoughtful.

He actually didn’t seem to hate the idea.

“I left the Black vaults to Harry though.” Sirius clarified after a moment.

“Padfoot...”

Sirius shook his head. “If there _is_ to be a Black Heir, then Harry’s second born will have that right. I can take the Lordship back, with the proviso that I will be able to change that absurd right of succession law. Harry has just as much right to the Black legacy as Draco—so therefore? So does his children.”

Harry blushed as he gazed at his sister, who was smiling widely at him. He was worried for a split second that Hermione might be offended on behalf of Draco, but it seemed as if she agreed with Padfoot.

Which he’d known all along she would, but still...

“Are you sure, Sirius?”

“It’ll be fine, Harry.”

Harry nodded, and tried not to look too smug, but Hermione’s voice inside his head had him turning his head away, lest he give away their plan.

“Nice work, Brother Mine.”

“You called it, Sister Mine. Sometimes I think you’ve turned into a snake.”

“Whatever gets the job done.”

Harry snickered softly, but decided that a little deception never hurt anyone.

Not if the end result justified the means.

Based on Muriel’s satisfied expression and Remus soft smile, Harry was pretty sure they both knew that Padfoot has just been played by his Godchildren.

Then he saw Hermione wink subtly at her Grandmother, and Harry just shook his head.

_Prewett women were scary as fuck._


	87. Officially a Sap!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Draco visits Fosgate Hall and has a nice chat with Sirius.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the lovely kudos and reviews. As I’m winding up the story I will respond once it’s completed.

“Hey, my love.”

Hermione lifted up her head and a wide smile broke out onto her face. She didn’t waste a second after that before she stood from her usual spot on the library terrace and ran to her wizard, jumping up into his arms and snogging him senseless.

From his needy groan and passionate response, Hermione knew he had missed her too.

“_Too bloody long._” He murmured, as he broke the kiss and inhaled his witch’s scent of vanilla and plumeria.

“I know.” Hermione replied, kissing her way down Draco’s neck in earnest as he walked them both back onto the terrace and sat them down with Hermione draped over him—her legs still wrapped around his waist.

“You’re lucky my Mother is downstairs with Muriel, having tea. I don’t think she’d be impressed with you welcoming me in such a fashion.”

Hermione giggled, before she bit a sharp retort onto Draco’s neck in retaliation.

“I on the other hand, have _no_ such complaints.”

He leant down and covered his vixen’s mouth with his own, pushing Hermione down into the soft cushions as he lay his body on top of hers.

So caught up in their reunion, they didn’t hear Padfoot approaching in his animagus form, until he jumped up on Draco’s back and licked his ear.

“Gross!” Draco cried out, pulling back with a irritated sneer on his face. “Hermione! Tell your Godfather to stop antagonizing me!”

Hermione smiled and shook her head, trying to give Padfoot her sternest look and failing miserably. “Padfoot, that’s enough.”

The Grim chuffed as he sat down on his back haunches, wagging his tail while his tongue lolled outside his mouth in what looked to be a grin of some kind.

“You’re a bit late to the party, cousin,” Draco mocked, “I’ve already deflowered your Goddaughter _most spectacularly._ We don’t require a chaperone anymore.”

“_**Draco!!!” **_Hermione shrieked, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment, while Padfoot just growled in warning. 

But Draco could only smirk in satisfaction, as he waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

“You both are incorrigible!” Hermione lamented, as she pushed Draco off of her and stood up—primly readjusting her skirt. “I’m going to see what Grandmother plans for dinner. You both try and behave.”

“But, love...”

“Don’t _but love _me, Draco Lucius Malfoy!”

Hermione stomped out of the library while Draco sat back on the lounger, watching her go with a disgruntled expression on his aristocratic face. 

When Hermione was gone, he turned to his cousin and said haughtily, “Do you really have to act like such a _brute?”_

Sirius morphed back into his human form, as he smirked down at the young pup and replied, “Do you really need to accost my Goddaughter where anyone could walk in and see you both?”

“She accosted me!”

Sirius scoffed, clearly not believing that his little kitten was capable of such a thing.

Draco waved a hand, inviting his cousin to take a seat which surprisingly, he did.

“So I’ve been told that you’ve decided to take me up on my offer?”

Padfoot just gave the young wizard a dubious look, but nodded.

“I was summarily outwitted by two very conniving witches and by my traitorous Godson into reclaiming my birthright. Not that I wanted the infernal thing, but I suppose I could try and make _some_ use out of it. If for no other reason than to piss my Mother’s portrait off.”

“Great Aunt Walburga...” Draco shivered in disgust.

He had met the witch maybe once?

It was more than enough.

“Dear old Mother was a right piece of work. She hated me with a passion and loved my brother as much as she was capable of.”

“And your Father?”

“Dear old Dad was a purist, same as your Grandfather. When I was sorted into Gryffindor, I became the family pariah. I never did hold with that blood purity bullshite.” Sirius then stared down his cousin, and growled out, “You were a little _prick_ to my Goddaughter in school. A right tosser, from what I remember. Remus shared a few things with me about what a pampered little Princeling you were kitten’s third year at school. But from what Harry has shared, you’ve turned over a bit of a new leaf this year at school. So what are you up to, cousin?”

“What makes you think I’m up to _anything_, cousin?”

“You’re Lucius Malfoy’s son. Whether I like the man or not...and I’m most definitely not a fan...your Father is as cunning as they come. I would imagine a bit of that has rubbed off on you over the years.”

“Some.” Draco saw no reason to deny it.

“So?”

“What do you wish to know?”

“Harry seems to think you’ve got some big plan brewing?”

“Perhaps.”

“And this plan is contingent on me claiming back my birthright and rightful place in society?”

“Could be.”

Sirius chuckled, as he eyed Draco speculatively.

“Does kitten know what you’ve got planned?”

“I don’t keep secrets from my witch,” Draco admitted with a self-righteous smirk of his own, “we both know what my Princess is capable of when vexed properly. I may be a cunning snake, but I’m also a self-preservationist at heart.”

“Smart kid.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“She loves you.”

“And I love her,” Draco’s voice was firm and uncompromising, “I have for much longer than I’d ever admit to, under normal circumstances. I didn’t think I’d ever get a chance to be with her. Not in the ways I had hoped to be.”

“Because you thought she was Muggleborn.”

Draco nodded. “You know what it’s like growing up as the Heir of a Noble House. The expectation is tremendous. There aren’t many choices to be had, unless you want to be blasted off the family tree.”

“And what about your children, cousin?” Sirius leant forward, his body language radiating a kind of menace that made Draco wary, even if he appreciated the sentiment behind it.

“What about them?” Draco prevaricated, not sure he wanted to have this conversation with Hermione’s Godfather.

“Don’t play dumb, kid. It doesn’t _suit_ you.”

Draco huffed, but didn’t reply.

“Look,” Sirius began hesitantly, “I know it might not be easy for you to admit, but we both know that my Goddaughter isn’t going to give a rat’s arse about blood status. All she’s going to care about is whether or not her kids find someone who will love and accept them, flaws and all. You have some time to think on it, but if you might be willing take a piece of advice from someone a bit wiser than you? Don’t allow your Grandfather nor your Father’s ideology to dictate how you raise your kids. If you care at all about them and your witch? Try and be a bit more accepting, and practice what you preach.”

“Why do I get the impression you don’t think I’m capable of such a thing?”

“I don’t know,” Sirius grinned smugly, “_are you?”_

Draco didn’t reply as he watched his cousin stand and leave the room, giving him food for thought.

Would he truly be alright with his children marrying a half-blood or a Muggleborn? 

He knew Hermione wouldn’t have a problem with it, and perhaps he was putting the cart before the horse...but it did bear some serious consideration.

He stood up and left the library; walking towards the stairs he heard his witch talking with his Mother.

“I would love to take you to Paris with me,” his mother’s voice rang out, “there are some excellent shops where we can browse for a summer trousseau as well as find a suitable wedding dress that you might like. Anything custom would take several months to procure.”

Draco heard Hermione sigh. “I’m not a big shopper, unless it’s for books, Lady Malfoy.”

“Dearest, I’ve told you to call me Narcissa. Or Mother, if you’d prefer. I know I can’t take the place of Marlene, or your adoptive Mother, Helen...but I would hope given time? You might come to see me as someone you can confide in.”

Draco grinned warmly. 

He knew, how much his mother missed having Cassie to raise.

There were so many things that a Mother could only enjoy with a daughter. 

He also knew how tender-hearted his witch was, and that she would give his Mother a chance.

“I would be honored, Narcissa.” The tenor of his witch’s voice was genuine, which filled him with relief. “I know how much you love Draco, and I hope you know that I only want the best for him too. I just hope I can make him as happy as he’s made me.”

Draco peered around the corner and gazed down the stairs, where his Mum was standing with Hermione. 

He almost gasped in surprise, when his Mother enveloped Hermione in a hug.

He hadn’t seen his Mum do that in some time.

His expression melted as he watched Hermione return the affection, and her eyes looked up at that moment and caught his. 

He mouthed, “_Love you”_ and she smiled widely before returning the sentiment.

When his Mother pulled away she cupped Hermione’s cheeks in her hands.

“My Dragon _adores_ you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him smile as much as I have these past two weeks. My boy has always been rather serious, but with you he seems so much lighter. So I thank you for that.”

“He’s rather different than I thought he was.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Narcissa tutted, “it’s a Malfoy trait, I’m afraid. Lucius is very much the same way with everyone else.”

“Except you.”

Narcissa nodded and said smugly, “Except me.”

“I think Paris sounds lovely.”

“Good. I will make the arrangements and we will leave the afternoon after next. Draco and Lucius will surely wish to attend us. I know my Dragon will insist on joining us.”

“You would be correct, Mother.” Draco drawled, as he walked down the stairs.

Narcissa turned around and beamed at her son, who smirked affectionately at his Mother before walking over and pulling his witch into his side placing a gentle kiss on her temple.

“Paris sounds like a perfect place to spend a week.”

“A whole week?” Hermione queried, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“Of course. We will need at least that long to visit every bookstore on the Rue de Magique.”

“That sounds lovely!”

Draco’s smirk widened as he gazed down at his witch, who was smiling shyly up at him.

“But for now, love? I was promised a walk in the gardens. I haven’t seen you in a few days and I’ve been missing you.” Draco then turned to his Mum. “I hope you don’t mind, Mother.”

“Not at all, my Dragon. Go enjoy the lovely afternoon. I’ll let Muriel know where you’ve both gone off to.”

Bowing his head in thanks, Draco escorted his witch back out to the gardens where they walked along the path towards the greenhouses.

“So I had an interesting talk with your Godfather.”

“Oh?” Hermione quirked an eyebrow at that admission, “What did Padfoot want.”

“He wants to make sure I take good care of you. He asked about how we are going to raise our future children.”

Draco felt Hermione stiffen slightly, and looking down, he could see her brow furrowing in confusion.

“Why would Sirius ask such a thing?”

“I suppose it’s because he knows how strongly you feel about equality and wants to make sure that I am going to be on board with that.”

Hermione nodded minutely, as she bit her lip in consternation. She understood Padfoot’s concerns, but it was a bit early to be worrying about such things.

“What did you tell him?” She asked after a few moments of silence.

“I honestly didn’t know what to tell him,” Draco admitted reluctantly, “probably because I haven’t given it much thought. I know we will, Magic willing, have an heir. The Malfoy family has only ever had a single child for longer than I care to admit. But, I’m hoping that we will have more than one child. I think you know why.”

“I do.” Hermione replied quietly, as she gripped Draco’s arm tighter. “I would too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“How many children would you like to have, if given a choice?”

Hermione thought about it, but the answer was fairly easy to make.

“Three. I would like to honor our families and I suppose it would be nice for each of our children to have a House to call their own. I know that a son is required to carry on the Malfoy name, but I’d be happy with a girl for either House Prewett or House McKinnon.”

“And Muriel?” Draco wondered aloud, “What do you think she’d want?”

“I think she’d say that either would be fine, but I think—deep down—she’d prefer a son to carry on the Prewett family name. I know the tradition of constellations is held deeply in the Black line, and I would like to honor my Godfather by maintaining that tradition.”

Draco sighed in relief. “Thank you, my love.”

Hermione stopped and gazed up at her wizard. “Did you really think I’d be against it?”

“I’d sincerely hoped not.”

“Silly wizard,” she giggled, “I even have some ideas on names that I rather like.”

“Really?”

She nodded.

“Well? Don’t leave me in suspense Princess, spit it out!”

Her soft giggle morphed into full belly laughter as she grinned widely at Draco’s glare of impatience.

But she figured she’d take pity on him.

It was cruel to tease.

_Mostly_.

“Well for a boy? I like the names Scorpius, Leo and Archer. For a girl? I like the names Lyra, Phoebe and Astrid.”

Draco mulled around the choices in his head and finally nodded in agreement. “I like Scorpius and Lyra the best. I think though—if we have a second son, that Leo would be a good choice for a first name and Fabian to honor your father and grandmother.”

“Leo Fabian Prewett-Malfoy?”

Draco hummed in the affirmative. 

It did have a nice ring to it.

“Very Gryffindor.” He baited and Hermione just pushed up against him, but her lips quirked in a half smile.

“Scorpius Draco Malfoy.” She said after a moment and Draco puffed out his chest with pride.

“A very good name.”

“Prat.”

“You love this prat.”

“Oddly enough, I do.” She snarked, which earned a firm swat on her backside for her cheek.

“Lyra Hermione McKinnon-Malfoy?” Draco asked, and Hermione shook her head.

“Lyra Muriel McKinnon-Malfoy.”

Draco chuckled, but nodded as he couldn’t refute his witch’s desire to honor her Grandmother after such a fashion.

“You do realize,” he said after a moment, “that we could very well be picking out the actual names of our future brood?”

Hermione just gave him an incredulous look.

“And?”

“Just checking.” He quipped with ease. “But we need to get in a lot of practice before we start having babies, love.”

“Draco!” She nudged him hard. “We aren’t going to be married for at least a year! And I would like to finish my Charms Mastery before I start popping out children!”

He pulled her into his embrace and kissed her soundly before whispering deeply into her ear, “Hopefully the magic of our bond will play along, my sweet love.”

“It will, if it knows what’s good for it.” She bantered back petulantly, causing Draco to smile indulgently at her.

“I suppose only time will tell.” He said after another heated kiss.

As they continued to walk through the grounds, they discussed many things and Draco realized belatedly, as he left that evening to return home that he couldn’t wait for next summer to arrive.

If he could get away with it, he’d marry Hermione tomorrow.

Something told him however, that his idealist little hellion wouldn’t be agreeable to such an idea.

So, he’d have to be patient and wait.

Merlin! 

It was official! 

_He was a fucking sap!_


	88. Paris: The City of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s always time for Paris.

Hermione had never been to Wizarding Paris, and if she’d thought that Diagon Alley had been something when she’d first laid eyes on it as an naive eleven year old; being here at the Rue de Magique was simply put—_bloody amazing!_

The store fronts were filled with bright colors. Everywhere she looked, there was something fantastical to see and observe. Draco had been right about the amount and quality of old bookstores, and she had nearly fainted when she walked into ‘_Tomes et Traité_’...finding herself lost in the bookshelves for a good four hours.

As if she hadn’t known that Draco was her ideal mate, seeing his own excitement as he browsed the potions and alchemy sections of the shoppe, had made her sigh with happy contentment.

Lucius and Narcissa had left them be, while they had gone off to some rare tea shoppe that sold Eastern blends that were fairly pricey. There was even a wine shoppe that claimed to be a purveyor of rare vintages from all over the world—both Muggle and not.

Then there was the mask shoppe, that specialized in one-of-a-kind carnival and masquerade coverings which Hermione had thought simply charming.

Some of them were truly works of art with glass motifs that shifted and changed colors.

Draco had drawled in that way of his, that perhaps they could have a Masquerade for an engagement party.

The idea had merit.

The Chocolatier shoppe’s were plentiful, and all had a different theme. Some were modeled much like Honeydukes, and catered to younger palates while the more refined stores had speciality homemade truffles, soufflés, cakes and tortes for the more discerning palate.

The designer dress boutiques reminded Hermione a bit of Bond Street in Muggle London. When she’d mentioned as much to Narcissa, the witch got a curious gleam in her eye.

Hermione decided to file that away for another day.

The Herbology store had rare plants from every part of the globe—offerings from Australia, South America and even Japan. Hermione smiled and thought of Neville, and how much he’d love this place. She decided to buy him a small singing lotus plant.

Draco had smirked at her, but to his credit?

He didn’t say anything disparaging.

But the one store that took her breath away was the Magical menagerie.

It was utterly astonishing!

Magical creatures from all over the world, all of them domesticated and well taken care of.

The owner of the shoppe was a French Magizoologist by the name of Pierre Dupree. He and his wife ran their business together, and he spent an entire afternoon showing Draco and Hermione their entire collection.

The bridal boutique that Narcissa had dragged her off to during their final day, was noted for having some of the most lovely formal robes in all the Wizarding World. When Hermione walked into the shoppe, her face broke out into a relieved smile as she noticed her Grandmother, Molly and Andromeda waiting for she and Narcissa.

She beamed at her future Mother-in-law with gratitude.

“This is such a nice surprise!”

Muriel came over and took Hermione’s arm, leading her towards the back of the large shoppe where there seemed to be an even larger private room.

“Dora wanted to come,” Andromeda spoke up, “but she couldn’t get away from work.”

“That’s too bad.” Hermione frowned. “Do you think she’d mind being a bridesmaid?”

Andromeda shook her head. “I think she would be honored, dear.”

“Do you know who else you’d like to ask?” Molly wondered, as she perused through a few of the dresses on the left side of the room.

“Ginny of course, and Luna too. I don’t know how many attendants Draco will have?”

She glanced at Narcissa curiously, as she hadn’t even inquired of Draco whom he’d be asking.

“Blaise will be Draco’s best man. I would imagine Theodore and Harry will be asked. Vincent and Gregory too. Will you be having Sirius give you away?”

“Yes.”

Narcissa nodded, as she lifted up a dress with her wand and set it on a large lounger—giving it a critical once over.

“Perhaps you might wish to think about asking two more witches to attend to even out the numbers.”

Hermione bit her lip in contemplation. She wasn’t especially close to anyone else, but she had become rather friendly with Lavender this year. Pavarti and Faye too.

“I suppose I might have some thoughts on that.”

Thankfully, no one asked her to elaborate as Andromeda joined her sister in pointing out a few other choices.

Molly seemed to prefer the white gowns and Hermione didn’t think white was her best color.

Besides, it wasn’t as if she was a blushing virgin anymore.

Especially not after last night.

Her cheeks pinked as she thought about how Draco had snuck into her room and ravished her for the better part of the night. Their bond had been feeling almost too needy and Hermione began to wonder just how long she’d be able to go before she lost all sense of proper decorum and ripped Draco’s robes off of him in her haste to have him.

“You look happy.” Molly whispered into her ear, causing Hermione to startle a bit before she nodded with a soft smile.

“I am Molly. Truly. Draco is so much more than I ever expected him to be. I didn’t think it was possible to be this happy.”

Molly grabbed her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “I’m glad, Dearie. I was pleasantly surprised when I got the owl from Narcissa, inviting me to come today. I do believe she wants to make sure that all your family feels included in this process.”

“I’m glad you came, Molly.”

The older witch patted her shoulder and moved to another rack of dresses. “Aunt Muriel told me about what happened at McKinnon Manor. I wish I could’ve been there to see Fabian one last time.”

Hermione’s face fell as she enveloped Molly into a crushing hug, which the older witch returned fully—leaving both witches sniffling with emotion.

“I can show you my memory, if you’d like?”

“Muriel showed me hers, but I would love you see your’s as well. I’m just gratified that you had a chance to see your Father and Mother.”

“Me too. They seemed to love each other very much.”

“They _really_ did.” Molly agreed readily. “Fabian always had a thing for Marlene, but he was a bit shy. Gideon actually gave him the push he needed to pursue your Mum. He was chuffed to bits when Marlene returned his affections. I don’t think I’d ever seen him happier.” Molly then smiled down lovingly at her niece and said, “It’s the same way your young man looks at you.”

Hermione blushed, but her eyes sparkled with pleasure at the fact.

She could well imagine she looked just as besotted whenever she gazed at Draco.

“Have you found anything you like, Dearest?”

Hermione shook her head.

“Not yet, Grandmother.”

At that moment, an older witch with a severe expression walked into the room, which faded as soon as she saw who was standing there.

“Bonjour, Mademoiselle Malfoy, ça fait longtemps que je ne vous ai pas vu!”

“Bonjour, Aline! Yes, it has certainly been a while.” The two witches gave each other the perfunctory air kiss greeting, before Narcissa gestured to Hermione.

“This is Miss Hermione Prewett. She and my son, Draco—are betrothed and will be married next summer.”

“Mon Dieu! It is merveilleuse! Bien sûr, je devrais concevoir quelque chose de magnifique!”

“I would be honored for you to design me something, Madam Pernelle.”

“Zen it ‘es done!” The woman clapped her hands with excitement.

Hermione smiled as she allowed the witch to usher her onto the elevated dais where she took her measurements, then poked and prodded her for another twenty minutes.

“Quelle couleur préférez-vous?” Aline asked.

“I think I prefer the champagne colored gowns.”

“Oui! Beaucoup mieux avec votre teint!”

“Yes, I thought that as well, Aline. That color would look very nice with Hermione’s coloring.” Narcissa agreed with a firm nod.

“Would you prefer something simple, Dearest—or a bit more ornate?” Muriel inquired thoughtfully as she glanced at one of the gowns in the color her granddaughter had preferred. “The corset could be rather simple, leaving room for the skirt and train to be a bit more embellished.” Muriel subtly tapped her finger on one gown with an off the shoulder, wrapped corsetée and then gestured to a white gown that had small diamonds glittering in the full tulle skirt.

“The skirt is lovely, but I’m not sure about the diamonds.” Hermione admitted with a small frown.

“I had something else in mind.” Muriel offered blithely, pulling out something from her handbag before enlarging it and handing it over to Madam Pernelle.

When the witch opened the cloth, all eyes widened as they felt the magic radiating from the item.

“Grandmother, is that?”

“It is.” Muriel smirked. “I magically removed a small piece of the altar. With careful construct, it can be made into enough tiny crystals to embellish your gown properly. It will add nicely to the bonding.”

Molly gasped, and placed her hand over her heart in wonder.

“That’s a lovely idea, Hermione! Due to your enchanted ancillary bond, the rose quartz will only heighten your binding ceremony.”

Hermione glanced at Muriel, her expression slightly puzzled as she asked, “Would you all mind if I speak with my Grandmother alone?”

“Of course not, Dear.” Narcissa was quick to shoo everyone out of the room and even went so far as to ward it private.

When they were gone, Hermione turned to her Grandmother and said stiffly, “Please explain.”

Muriel chuckled, giving Hermione an approving nod. “Not much gets by you, does it child?”

Shaking her head, Hermione just folded her arms over her chest as Muriel took a seat—then patted the spot next to her like a command.

Which Hermione instantly obeyed.

Her Grandmother sighed heavily, and for the first time since Hermione had known her...she seemed nervous.

“As you know, Dearest, I’m not getting any younger.”

About to protest, Muriel just put her hand up to silence any comments. She needed to say her peace before being barraged with questions she’d rather not answer.

“My time on this earth is coming to a close. Perhaps it’s selfish on my part to wish to see my great-great grandchildren born before I leave this life. I know you wish to finish your schooling, but you need to remember that you have options and help. Your Gryffindor stubbornness seems for forget that you’re not the same girl who entered Hogwarts at eleven.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” Hermione’s voice was hurt, as was her expression.

“Because you _needed_ this time to become who you were meant to be,” Muriel admitted with a wan smile, “and the freedom to explore your heart to whatever end. You have made your choice and as such, I highly doubt your bond with Draco will allow for much time before a child is conceived. In this way, you will be given some measure of a choice.”

“I don’t understand.”

Muriel opened her handbag again and pulled out a velvet satchel, handing it over. Opening it, Hermione’s mouth dropped at the rose quartz shaped heart pendant that was thrumming with raw magic.

“I had that fashioned for you to wear during this next year. I’ve imbued it with some Prewett family magic...don’t ask. It’s in the grey area, but alas—it will prevent you from becoming pregnant before you are done with your studies at Hogwarts. However, by creating this gift, it has drained a good portion of my remaining magical core.”

Tears welled up in Hermione’s eyes as she clutched the offering to her chest. “_Grandmother_...”

“Do not chastise me, child, nor seek to make me feel guilty for this choice. It _needed_ to be done. I will not have my Granddaughter getting pregnant out of wedlock! It would be _unseemly_, and frankly—irresponsible of me as our family’s Matriarch, to ensure that such a travesty does not occur.”

“How much time?”

“A few years perhaps. Long enough for me to be able to hold the next Prewett Heir.”

“But what if I only have one child?”

“You _won’t_. Twins run in the Prewett line. My gift will assure this comes to pass.”

Hermione tilted her head down and stared at the pendant, that was shimmering in her hand. She could feel it’s sentient magic as well as the love and care it must’ve taken her Grandmother to make this sacrifice.

How could she refuse such a gift?

“What about Draco?” Hermione queried. “Shouldn’t I at least ask his opinion?”

Muriel sighed, but then said briskly, “If you must.”

A snort left Hermione’s mouth, but she ignored Muriel’s scowl as she closed her eyes and called for her wizard.

“Hey, my love? How’s the shopping going?”

“It’s fine, but I have something I need to ask you?”

“Okay?”

Hermione could feel the concern in Draco’s mind, so she forged ahead and shared what her Grandmother had done. There was a few heartbeats of deafening silence, and then she felt Draco’s answering mirth as he chuckled into her mind.

“She’s something else, isn’t she?”

“She really is.” Hermione agreed.

“What do you think?”

“I want to know what you think, love.”

“Hermione, I want whatever you want. If that means we start our family sooner rather than later, I’m perfectly okay with that fact. If that means we work harder this next year towards our masteries, then that’s what we will do. My job in this life is to give you your hearts desires. To make sure you’re safe, happy and loved. Do you understand?”

Hermione felt tears falling from her eyes as she silently choked out, “I’m so lucky.”

“Sure, Princess. You just keep telling yourself that, especially when at some point in the future—you want to hex me.”

“I’ll keep it it mind.”

“Please do,” Draco quipped, “now enjoy the rest of your day. I’ll see you for dinner. I love you, Princess.”

“I love you too.”

When the connection broke, Hermione gazed at her Grandmother, who was watching her closely.

“He agreed?”

“He did and you knew he would,” Hermione snickered, then handed the pendant to Muriel and asked, “would you do the honors?”

“Of course, Dearest.”

As Muriel lay the pendant over her heart, Hermione gasped as the magic whooshed through her body, mind and soul. She smiled widely, as she turned to face her Grandmother once again, before enveloping her into a fierce hug.

“Thank you, Grandmother. I love it, and I love you.”

Muriel returned the sentiment, as she held her Granddaughter in her arms. “And I love you, my precious girl. Of all the things in my life that I’ve seen and lived through, being able to have you has enriched it far more than I’d ever believed possible.”

Pulling back, Muriel gently wiped the tears from Hermione’s cheeks before she snarked out, “Now? Let us find a proper dress to knock that wizard of yours off his feet.”

“That sounds perfect.”


	89. Live and Learn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Summer Ball arrives and it’s a night of unexpected surprises.

For all her worry about hostessing an event, Hermione rather enjoyed herself for the most part. Perhaps it had been because the day was also in celebration of her brother’s seventeenth birthday or perhaps it was the fact that Sirius was there to enjoy the festivities—it might even have been the fact that Ron had come too, and he’d been forced by Molly to properly dress for the occasion.

It had been a good day.

The rest of the summer had flown by in a flurry of Ladies Tea parties, Garden parties and finally, the Summer Ball which was being hosted this evening at Malfoy Manor.

And no one could hold a candle when it came to planning a formal do like Narcissa Malfoy.

The theme was _Starlight_, which Hermione thought very appropriate.

Hermione’s gown was one she’d purchased on Bond Street. The dress—a Jasper Conran designer gown—was of the darkest blue velvet—almost black in appearance. The corseted top was sleeveless and hugged her torso sinfully while the full ball gown skirt fell in waves to the floor. Hermione used a little bit of magic, to add a shimmering effect to the skirt and she paired it with a simple set of silver Gucci heels.

Her rose quartz necklace, was charmed to appear as a diamond heart and she added the final touch as she put in her sapphire earrings that Draco had given her for Valentine’s Day.

Wearing her hair up in a French braided crown, which fell into soft waves on the back of her neck in a stylish bun, Hermione gave herself a final once over before heading down to meet Harry, Sirius and her Grandmother before they left for Malfoy Manor.

As she walked into the floo room, Hermione heard a wolf whistle and couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

“Nice, Pads.”

“You look like a Princess, Kitten.”

“Why thank you, kind Sir.”

Hermione eyed her Godfather, who was dressed quite handsomely in a set of formal Wizarding robes that were tailored just for him. The black velvet outer coat was fitted and went down to his knees while the cravat underneath was a grayish silver that matched his eyes, with the embroidered Black Family Crest sitting prominently over his heart. The fitted shirt was also black, as were his trousers and dragonhide shoes.

“You look very handsome, Sirius.”

“Why thank you, kitten! I do clean up rather well, don’t I?”

The question was meant to be sarcastic, but Hermione just walked over and fixed Sirius silver tie carefully, as she stared up into his twinkling grey eyes.

“Padfoot, I know this is going to be a bit of a challenge for you tonight. You’ve managed to avoid attending these functions all summer except for the party here that me and Harry hosted, and even _then_—you didn’t stay very long. If you start to feel anxious, just promise me you’ll find Harry or myself, and not react if someone says something to piss you off.”

Sirius sighed heavily. “It would be easier if Remus was able to attend with me.”

“I know.” Hermione replied sympathetically. “Amelia will be there, though.”

The expression on Padfoot’s face was part indulgent, part skeptical.

“Are you trying to play matchmaker, Kitten?”

“Maybe a bit.” Hermione admitted with a sly smile. “She’s no more interested in having children than you are, and she is quite a handsome woman. She’s tough, fair, smart and powerful. You could do worse.”

“You think she’d be interested in an old dog like me?”

“I think she’d be lucky to have you.” Hermione placed both her hands on Sirius chest and gazed up at him pleadingly. “You, more than anyone—deserve some happiness after everything you’ve sacrificed.”

“Here, here.” Harry agreed, as he walked into the room, looking dapper in his formal dress robes. “You trying to convince Pads to ask Amelia out?”

“That was the plan.” Hermione snickered and winked, while Sirius just scowled at his godchildren.

“You both are menaces, and I think it’s entirely unfair for you both to gang up on me!”

“We only want what’s best for you, Padfoot.” Harry clamped his hand on Sirius shoulder. “And you know Mione isn’t going to let this go—like ever. She’s blissfully happy and wants everyone she loves to be the same.”

Raising his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation, Sirius shook his head at how ridiculous his little kitten was. While he was accepting of her choice of wizard, it didn’t mean he was happy about it.

The fact that he didn’t get a say in it, irked him more than he cared to admit.

Plus there was the whole Lucius Malfoy thing, he was still trying to get used to.

As if he needed a reason to abhor the fact that Lucius sodding Malfoy would soon be ever more entangled as family once his goddaughter married the Malfoy pup.

“You look handsome, Harry.”

“Thank you, Sister Mine. You look stunning, and definitely too good for the ferret.”

“Harry!”

Sirius snickered in agreement.

“Good to see you’re all enjoying yourselves.” Muriel snarked as she made her way into the room, looking resplendent in a set of silver witches robes.

“Just preparing for the inevitable fun that awaits.” Sirius snarked back, earning a pointed stare for his troubles.

“Then we should be on our way, yes?”

“Of course, Grandmother.” Hermione replied, watching with a gleam in her eye as Sirius gallantly offered his arm to Muriel while Harry did the same for her.

“Ready?” He asked silently and Hermione nodded as she replied in kind.

“Let’s do this, Brother Mine.”

The whoosh of the floo spirited them away, and as expected...they both re-emerged in the same exact room they had appeared in a little over a year ago. Sirius and Muriel were both cleaning the soot from their robes and with a causal wave of her hand—both she and Harry were returned to their pristine appearances.

Following the long receiving line, Hermione didn’t bother to look around as her entire focus was settled onto stormy grey eyes and a sexy smirk that was fixated on her as she moved through the throng of guests until they were next.

“Welcome, Lady Prewett,” Lucius voice drawled, and then there was the briefest of pauses before the wizard drawled out arrogantly, “Black.”

“Malfoy.”

“Oh really now?” Narcissa tutted as she stared down both men, who shuffled sheepishly under her watchful gaze. “Hello, cousin.’ Narcissa smiled warmly. “You look very dashing this evening.”

Sirius smirked and bowed over Narcissa’s proffered hand, gently kissing her knuckles in greeting.

“You look lovely as always, Cissy.”

“Thank you, dear.” Narcissa’s blue eyes then settled on Hermione and Harry, and her expression softened noticeably. “Hermione, darling!” She came over and air kissed the young witch’s cheeks in welcome, before taking the arm that wasn’t wrapped in Harry’s and gave her a fond once over. “You look a vision! What a simply exquisite gown!”

“Thank you, Narcissa.” Hermione blushed, when she saw Draco’s smirk deepen as his eyes roved down her form greedily. “I purchased this on Bond Street in Muggle London.”

“Oh?” Narcissa twirled her finger, letting Hermione know she wanted to see the entire effect—so she complied. “This is truly a work of art! Are all Muggle fashion designers of this quality?”

“Couture, yes. Some are even more exclusive. Muggle Paris is the height of fashion from what I’ve been led to believe.”

“Hmm, well I suppose we must go back and see for ourselves, my Dear.”

“That would be lovely.” Hermione agreed, while Draco silently thanked her for humoring his Mother.

“And how are you, Harry?”

“I’m fine, Mrs. Malfoy.” Harry bowed formally in greeting.

“Well, enjoy your evening—all of you. We will talk a bit later.”

They all nodded and Draco took that as his opening to move over to his witch and place a heated kiss on the back of her knuckles in greeting.

“I’ll catch up with you in a bit.” He conversed silently.

“Promise?”

Draco chuckled as his smirk morphed into a wicked grin.

“Count on it, Princess.”

He then watched as Potter escorted his witch into the ballroom, his eyes glued to his witch’s backside until his Father cleared his throat loudly to get his attention back towards greeting their remaining guests.

Thankfully, Draco didn’t have much longer to wait until he was free of his duties—but when he entered the ballroom and scouted for his witch—he was brought up short when he saw Hermione laughing with Adrian Pucey.

Fixating a placid expression onto his face, Draco quickly made his way over.

Adrian was the first to notice him.

“Hey, mate.”

“Adrian.” Draco drawled as he wrapped a possessive arm around Hermione’s waist, earning a knowing grin from his friend and a pointed look from his witch.

“Hope you don’t mind me keeping Hermione company?”

“Should I?”

“Draco!” Hermione nudged him with her hip, her expression unhappy. “Don’t be a prat.”

“He can’t help it, Hermione.” Adrian quipped, causing Draco to sneer while Hermione giggled.

“Draco doesn’t like to share.” Hermione replied behind her hand, causing Adrian to softly chuckle while Draco just gave her an incredulous look.

“Is this what I have to look forward to this evening?” He queried, in a somewhat scathing tone only to be shushed for his petulance.

“Can’t I tease you just a bit, love?”

Sighing, Draco just pulled her into his side further as he kissed his witch’s temple in capitulation.

“Only if I get to tease you later.” His silent suggestive tone made Hermione blush, but she just smiled shyly and nodded, which had Draco’s demeanor relaxing.

He knew there was no need to be jealous, but he couldn’t help it when it came to his witch.

“How’s the Ministry, mate?”

“About what you’d expect.” Adrian replied before taking a small sip of his sparkling wine. “I’ve been learning quite a bit. Lord Greengrass has been particularly helpful in sponsoring my efforts lately, which I’m grateful for. I should be done with my junior solicitor apprenticeship by next summer.”

“That’s wonderful news, Adrian!” Hermione’s voice was genuinely pleased for her friend. “Did you bring anyone this evening?”

“No. I’m not seeing anyone currently.”

“Oh, I just thought...”

“It’s alright.” Adrian was quick to reassure. “I’ve been too busy with work to have time for a proper relationship right now. Perhaps once I’m done with my internship I might be more willing to court someone.”

“That’s smart thinking.” Draco replied, his voice sincere.

“Will you be done with your potions apprenticeship by the end of seventh year?”

Draco shook his head. “I’ll have another year to actually work on the final part of my Mastery. Hermione will be starting her Charms apprenticeship in September.”

“Really?” Adrian smiled widely. “With whom? Flitwick?”

“No,” Hermione sighed, “Professor Snape, actually.”

“Wow!” Adrian shook his head in wonder. “That’s just...”

“He’s doing it as a favor,” Draco clarified lowly, “for us.”

Pucey nodded thoughtfully, his brown eyes assessing his friend and former paramour, whom both looked completely besotted with one another.

“So, you both have?”

“Yes.” Hermione blushed slightly as she went on, “It’s difficult for us to be apart for any length of time. We will be Co-Heads in the fall, and we are getting married next summer.”

Adrian glanced at his friend, who’s expression was smugger than smug—and as happy as he was for Hermione that she’d found her bonded—there was still that small part of his heart that was jealous of Draco’s good fortune.

“Congratulations to you both.”

He held out his hand, which Draco took and shook firmly with a polite nod of thanks.

“You’re a lucky wizard, Draco. I don’t think I need to tell you that, though.”

“No, mate. I’m crystal clear on that fact.”

“Good.” Brown eyes gazed down into blue, that were watching him with a hint of sadness behind her eyes. “I just want you to be happy, little witch.”

“I am, Adrian. Really.”

He nodded, and then excused himself to mingle a bit more before calling it an evening. He wasn’t sure he would be able to spend the rest of the night watching Draco enjoying his spotlight in the position he had desperately wanted to be in.

Both Hermione and Draco watched Adrian leave.

After a moment, Draco said silently, “He’s still in love with you.”

There was a lengthy pause, before Hermione replied—her emotions heavy as she said quietly, “I know. I care for him and I probably always will—but I love you, Draco. I hope you know that’s never going to change.”

“I know, Princess. It’s just a stark reminder what an idiot I was for so long.”

“Live and learn, my love. Hindsight is always a great teacher.”

“Touché.”

Draco then led her over towards where Theo and Luna Lovegood were talking with Lavender Brown, Terrence Higgs, Daphne Greengrass and Blaise.

Hermione enjoyed the conversation but then after about an hour, pulled the two witches aside for a chat.

“Can I talk to you both?”

“Of course.” Daphne nodded, as she and Lavender followed Hermione towards another part of the ballroom. Once they’d found a secure spot, Hermione placed a privacy ward and gestured for the two witches to sit down.

Fidgeting with her hands, Hermione smiled awkwardly at the two witches—who had both become surprisingly good friends to her this past year.

“I was wondering if you both would be agreeable to being attendants at my wedding next summer?”

To say they were stunned would’ve been a complete understatement. Daphne just stared at her, while Lavender literally gaped like a fish in a bowl—her eyes were wide as saucers and her mouth kept moving like she wanted to speak...but simply couldn’t form the words.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Hermione wondered if she had misjudged the situation and was about to politely excuse herself, when Daphne caught her arm before she could stand fully.

“Sorry, Hermione. You just surprised me. I think I can say the same for Lavender too.”

The other witch nodded emphatically.

“I would be honored to be a bridesmaid.” Daphne said at last, while Lavender just kept nodding along, causing Hermione to sigh in relief.

“That’s great.”

“Who else have you chosen?” Lavender finally got out.

“Ginny, Luna and Tonks.”

“Tonks?”

“Nymphadora Tonks. Andromeda’s daughter? She’s an Auror.”

“Oh yes!” Daphne smiled in recognition. “She’s Draco’s cousin?”

“She is. She’s really wonderful too. I think you’ll love her once you get to know her. She will be my Maid of Honor.”

“And I suppose Blaise will be Draco’s best man?” Daphne inquired and Hermione nodded.

“Yes. Narcissa seems to think he’ll ask Theo, Harry, Vincent and Gregory to be his other ushers.”

“That makes sense.”

“Well, I should probably get back to Draco, but I wanted to thank you both for agreeing.”

“It’s not a problem.” Lavender’s voice was slightly breathy, but she was smiling happily at being included in such a prestigious event.

Hermione stood and thanked them again before she glanced around the room, searching for her wizard.

When she couldn’t find him, she decided to try and locate Harry or Sirius.

At that precise moment, Draco was out in the gardens with Blaise—who had accosted his best mate for a bit of one-on-one conversation.

“So? Have you sent the formal letter of intent?” Draco quirked a brow, and Blaise rolled his eyes but nodded.

“I did last week, and Lord Greengrass sent back his approval.”

“How did your Mum take it?”

“She’s reserving judgement. You know how she is? No one will ever be good enough for her baby boy.”

“You know your Mum is going to be required to provide a Token for Daphne?”

“Yeah, tell me about it! I can’t imagine just what my dear Black Widow Mother would consider an appropriate token? I’m dreading the thought of it.”

Draco chuckled deeply, as he could well imagine just what Elora Zabini would have in mind.

But his musings were interrupted when he heard a rustling coming from his left, on the other side of the hedges.

His reflexes kicked in and he managed to knock Blaise out of the way when a spell shot through the darkness and cracked against the large hedge to his right, sending it up into flames.

“Shite!” Draco growled, as he telepathically called out for his witch as another spell shot from his right, which obscured his vision just long enough to disorient him, when a final spell hit him squarely in the chest.

The initial shock gave way to searing pain, as all the air from his lungs seized and he felt like his body was being covered in ice...

Then he heard someone screaming his name...

And then he felt heat...and warmth...

And wetness...

_Then nothing..._


	90. The Wyvern and Phoenix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Draco’s attack, leaves Hermione the only one who can save her wizard.

It had only taken Hermione a few minutes after she’d left Daphne and Lavender to spot a familiar face in the throng of witches and wizards. Walking towards the balcony, she nodded to a few people en route as she made her way to her preferred destination.

“Hello, Professor Snape.”

The surly wizard bowed his head in greeting. “Miss Prewett. I’m surprised to see you here, unattended. Where is your other half?”

Hermione glanced around again, and then shrugged. “I don’t know. I was talking with Daphne and Lavender for a bit, and when I was done I noticed Draco wasn’t here. Have you seen him?”

“I did notice him conversing with Mr. Zabini a bit ago, but where they might’ve gone off to? I cannot say.”

“I’m rather surprised to see you here.”

His beleaguered sigh was to be expected. “Alas, I was drafted into service this evening by Narcissa. She seems be of the mindset that my presence is required when she throws one of her little soirées.”

Hermione smiled and was about to say something cheeky, when she heard Draco’s panicked voice in her mind.

“_Under attack in the hedges...”_

Hermione paled instantly, her body shaking violently but a hard hand on her arm stopped her from fleeing.

“What?” Severus growled.

“Draco!” She pleaded. “He’s in danger! The hedges...”

“Go! I will get Lucius and Narcissa.”

Hermione nodded and as her magic began to express, several people close by gasped out, but before anyone could react—she disapparated with a crack of flame.

When she re-emerged a second later, she saw Draco being hit with a spell—his entire body crumpling in on itself as she screamed his name in agony. She lashed out her power at his attacker—causing the wizard to crash through the hedges onto the ground, cradling his side in pain.

It was Thorbjorn Rowle.

The man rolled over and leveled his wand in an instant at the same time several cracks of apparition were heard.

“_Sectumsempra_!”

Her Defense Professor’s voice boomed out into the night, hitting the burly wizard square in the chest and Hermione watched in horror as the wizard started bleeding out from multiple slash marks that had appeared all over his body, causing blood to be spilled onto the ground in earnest.

Narcissa screaming Draco’s name, woke Hermione up from her stupor as she ran towards her mate, seeing him lying unmoving on the ground.

“Draco!” She crashed down next to him, ruining her dress although she didn’t care in the least. “Draco!” She shook him, sobbing his name as she waved her hand over him—but he wasn’t responding.

She felt another person moving up next to her and saw Lucius kneeling down next to his son, running his wand over his body as he scanned for injuries.

“He’s been hit with Dolohov’s signature curse.”

“_What?!?”_ Hermione yelled in panic. She had been targeted with that same spell a little over a year ago, so she knew that if she didn’t do something—Draco would be dead in a matter of minutes.

She could hear footsteps of several people approaching, but she didn’t have time to think about the consequences of her choice. In her mind and heart, there was only one choice to be made.

“I can save him.” She gripped Lucius hand and gave him a beseeching look, silently imploring him to allow her to do this.

Narcissa rushed over and Hermione’s heart broke by the devastation so clearly showing on the older witch’s face as she screamed, “No!!! _Not my child!”_

Lucius nodded to Hermione as he stood and pulled his wife back, whispering into her ear that she needed to calm down and allow Hermione to save their son.

Releasing her magic, Hermione looked up at that moment and noticed Harry, Muriel, Adrian, Thoros, Sirius, Amelia, and Theo standing there—but behind them was a large grouping of guests who were all stunned by the attack on the Malfoy Heir...and then witnessing Hermione’s powers beginning to manifest.

Harry nodded, a reassuring smile on his face while her Grandmother just tilted her head in silent understanding. 

It was all the permission Hermione needed, as she levitated herself and Draco into the air. She extended her hands out and created the same magical barrier that she had done in the Ministry as her magic began to build in earnest.

By now, the entirely of the guests at the Manor were outside of the ballroom and in the gardens and on the balcony—staring up into the night sky and watching stunned—as the scene played out before them. While most everyone within the magical world had known cursorily that Hermione Prewett was likely a Sorceress, to see the visual manifestation of that reality?

Was something that the majority of them had come to terms that they’d never be privy to.

Hermione was aware somewhat peripherally—that she was being watched, but the larger part of her concentration was on saving her bond mate.

The force of the explosion of her aura as she screamed out as the Phoenix cry echoed in the night; caused all there to gasp out in absolute wonder.

Unleashing her power fully, Hermione extended her magic and enveloped Draco within the flames...pushing all her strength into his body and healing his wounds...both internal and external. She could feel his answering call, however faint—responding to her.

When it was enough, she pulled her magic inward and floated over to him, encasing him within her embrace as she closed her eyes and disapparated them to the first place she could think of—

_McKinnon Manor._

When they popped into the foyer of her ancestral home, Hermione called out for Bunny immediately.

“Mistress!”

“Bunny! I need you to go to Malfoy Manor and bring Lord and Lady Malfoy back here, along with my family!”

“Yes, Mistress!”

Hermione then disapparated with Draco to her bedroom in the Manor that she’d set up that summer—and once there, she laid him on her bed—vanishing his clothes and hers—before covering him in the blankets and then grabbing a night shirt that Bunny had left for her in her wardrobe, and put it on. Climbing into the bed, Hermione laid her body over her wizard’s, and felt herself let go as all the fear she’d felt in the exact moment she saw Draco lying unmoving, came rushing like a tidal wave to the forefront.

She sobbed brokenly, her tears falling over his skin in earnest.

It was a few moments later she heard the crack of apparition and then rushed footsteps coming towards her room as she cuddled into Draco’s side, holding onto him for dear life.

When Narcissa and Lucius burst into her room, Draco’s Mother was the first to reach him—her eyes filled with tears as she hovered over her son, cupping his head and arms—feeling for signs of life.

“He will be okay.” Hermione whispered, her blue eyes shimmering with the remnants of her own loss of emotional control.

Nodding in relief, Narcissa sat down heavily in a chair that Lucius had levitated over for her. She grasped onto her son’s hand, lifting it every few seconds and kissing his knuckles—needing that reassurance that he was alright.

The mood was somber for a while, until Muriel and Sirius arrived with Thoros, Theodore and Harry.

“Is he?” Harry asked lowly.

“He’ll be fine, Harry.” Hermione whispered, her voice raw and tired before she looked to Lucius and Narcissa. “I’m sorry I absconded with him, but he’ll be safe here.”

Narcissa nodded, grabbing her hand and squeezing it tightly. “You did the right thing, dearest.”

“Is that wizard dead?”

No one needed to have Hermione elaborate on just whom ‘_that wizard_’ was.

“Severus curse is rather formidable,” Lucius drawled, “that being said, I do believe he administered the countercurse eventually and took Rowle to St. Mungo’s. Whether he administered it in time? Well?”

Hermione’s brow furrowed, but she didn’t need to be told that the likelihood of Professor Snape willingly administering a counter curse to a wizard who had nearly killed his godson—to save said wizard’s life?

The man would be dead soon enough.

Hermione didn’t lament that fact at all.

She might be so inclined to do the deed herself, if by some miracle that bastard lived.

By the look in Lucius Malfoy’s eyes as he gazed down at his son, Hermione was fairly certain at least in this one instance?

They were of the same mind.

Quiet pervaded over the room for a while as everyone found places to sit, but eventually Sirius felt the need to speak up.

“I must say, Kitten? If I hadn’t seen your powers for myself? I don’t think I’d have believed it.”

Hermione smiled wanly, as she glanced at her family one at a time. They all were watching she and Draco closely, and she sighed in resignation.

“Everyone saw?”

They all nodded.

“Cats out of the bag, Kitten.”

Harry snorted, while Muriel just tsked Sirius for his lack of tact.

But the comment did serve to lighten the mood somewhat.

Hermione then gave her Godfather a considering look as she asked him seriously, “Did you know of the Prophecy, Padfoot?”

“You mean the one Trelawny gave to your parents in Scrivenshafts all those years ago?”

Sitting up, Hermione’s gaze narrowed, but Sirius just smirked.

“Your Mum told me _everything_ when she asked me to be your Godfather.” Sirius then waved his wand and a glamour spell dropped, revealing his own unbreakable vow mark.

“How?” Lucius eyed the similar marking that currently sat etched permanently on his own skin. “That shouldn’t be possible to glamour such a vow?”

If Sirius could look any smugger, he certainly did as he grinned impishly.

“McKinnon Family Magic. The rumors of this family’s abilities with alchemy have been suspected for decades, but never proven. Marlene, brilliant witch she was—was able to use the family magic to glamour the vow after it was made, and I could only reveal it when the time was right.”

“So all this time?”

“I’m sorry, Kitten. I wish I could’ve told you back during your fifth year. I wish I could’ve told you a lot of things. Both you and Harry, but your Mum was adamant that I needed to trust that things would happen as they were supposed to. Tonight...was the final piece of that puzzle.”

Everyone stared at Padfoot in confusion, but he just shook his head.

“Prophecies are tricky things to interpret, Kitten. Being such a lover of divination yourself? I’d think you know that sometimes it can seem as if it’s...”

“A bunch of rubbish?”

“Exactly!” Sirius winked. “But sometimes, as I’m sure you and your brother know now? Prophecies really do have lasting repercussions.”

“Neither can live, while the other survives.” Harry intoned drolly and Hermione gave her brother a sympathetic look.

“Sometimes prophecies don’t mean exactly what we think they do, as they are rarely straightforward.” Muriel interrupted and Sirius bowed his head in agreement before he said slowly...

_ **A child of the Fay born  
When night equals day  
Will forever destroy the darkness  
With flame, rebirth  
Mated Wyvern and Phoenix  
Will arise from the ashes of death as one** _

Hermione gasped, as she stared at her godfather—who’s eyes were filled with sadness and regret. 

She couldn’t blame him for keeping this from her. If her Mother had made him take an unbreakable vow, she must’ve had a good reason for doing so.

As she pondered that, Hermione’s eyes widened in sudden comprehension and horror.

“That’s why he let you rot in Azkaban for twelve years, isn’t it?”

All eyes turned to Sirius, but the wizard in question just chuckled deeply.

“You are so like your Mum, it’s scary, kitten. But yes, I suppose the old coot suspected _something_, but I had no idea he’d overheard your Prophecy. I knew that he had been aware of Harry’s, as it was given the day Trelawny interviewed for the job as Divination Professor. But looking back on it now? I’m not sure how I missed so much.”

“He was a good actor.” Muriel snarked out angrily.

“You weren’t fooled, Muriel.” Thoros was quick to point out.

“Only because I had known some of Albus history from when he was a young wizard. He took great pains to keep his past hidden.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say, as she was more focused on the last part of the Prophecy.

“What do you think it meant about arising from the ashes of death as one?”

“Well, you both are bonded?” Theo replied helpfully, but Hermione wasn’t convinced that was the cognizant point.

But she didn’t get to expound anymore on her musings when a soft groan sounded from next to her. She lifted her head up and watched with rapt attention as Draco’s eyes flickered, as he moaned out again. She gently entered his mind, and pleaded for him to open his eyes and come back to her.

Which he did after a bit.

When grey eyes finally opened and settled on blue, Hermione sobbed out a relieved breath as she dropped her head into Draco’s neck and just breathed in his comforting scent.

“Hey, Princess.” He voice cracked slightly, and then Draco turned his head and saw his Mum and Dad next to his bed...

_Which wasn’t his bed._

“Where am I?” He looked around and then asked, “What happened?”

“What do you remember, Son?” Lucius inquired and Draco pursed his lips as he thought about it before he said, “I was talking with Blaise in the gardens when I sensed someone. I pushed Blaise out of the way and before I could mount an attack, I was hit with a spell.”

“Yes.” Hermione whispered softly. “Rowle hit you with the same spell that Dolohov used on me in the Department of Mysteries last year.”

Draco turned his head to his witch and stared at her, as he could feel her repressed anxiety and worry bleeding through their bond.

“How did I survive?”

“I healed you.” Hermione clarified. “I used my powers and healed you.”

Draco swallowed with emotion as he nodded, unsure what to say to that admission other than, “Thank you, love.”

“You’re very welcome.”

They continued to stare at each other and the rest of the room soon faded away until Lucius cleared his throat again and said indulgently, “Perhaps, it might be prudent for the two of you to get some rest.”

Draco pulled Hermione firmly into his side as he nodded at his Father—causing Lucius to quirk an amused eyebrow at his son’s possessiveness.

Even Narcissa was bemused, but didn’t complain about the impropriety of it. She just stood and leant over, kissing Draco on the forehead before taking her husband’s arm and silently leaving the room.

“Harry, could you ask Bunny to make up rooms for whomever wants to stay tonight?”

“Sure.”

He gave Draco a firm nod and then left, only to be followed by Sirius, Thoros and Theo. Muriel sat there for a moment and then said in her cutting voice, “You do understand this will be all over the papers come tomorrow?”

“Yes, Grandmother.”

“Excellent! Then I’m sure neither one of you will have an objection to having your engagement announced before you both return to Hogwarts September First!” She then glared down at Draco as she stood up and continued waspishly, “I’ll expect to see a proper ring on my Granddaughter’s finger, young man.”

“Grandmother!”

But Draco only chuckled and bowed his head in supplication.

“Of course, Lady Prewett.”

“Good boy.”

They both watched as Muriel left their room, and once she was gone...Draco broke down in mirth while Hermione just scoffed out petulantly.

“This is twice that my proposal of sorts...has been usurped by others!” Her voice was indignant, as she glared down at her wizard.

“My love,” Draco’s voice was cajoling as he pulled her down for a brief kiss, “give me a bit more credit will you? I think I can still make it surprising and romantic if given the chance?”

“Really?”

“Do you want hearts and flowers?”

“_Really?”_

Draco wasn’t sure how a single word could be laced with so much sarcasm, but he just smirked up at his little minx with a predatory gleam behind his gaze.

“How about we table my imminent proposal for another time?”

“Fine,” Hermione rolled her eyes, before she grinned mischievously, “you did promise there’d be teasing to be had?”

Draco pulled her under him as he too, smiled widely. “I did, didn’t I?”

He figured the time for talk was done for the night and when he waved his hand to cast a silencing charm, he stopped and gazed down at Hermione questioningly.

“My wand?”

Her expression was confused as she shook her head. “I don’t know?” She then bit her lip and whispered, “Try something else.”

So Draco concentrated, and levitated them both off the bed wandlessly. After that, he conjured a few simple items, and transfigured a chair into a rabbit and then back again.

“Holy shite!”

Hermione too, was stunned.

“Do you think?”

Draco nodded. “Our magical cores have completely aligned.”

“That’s what the Prophecy meant.”

“What?”

So Hermione shared what Sirius had told her, and of all the things Draco had learned this past year? 

This one floored him the most!

“I suppose that means you’re really stuck with me, Princess.”

Hermione giggled, then kissed her wizard heatedly for a few moments before finally replying breathlessly, “Lucky me.”

“Indeed.” Draco drawled smugly, before taking her lips back with his own. 

The rest of the night was spent reaffirming their bond, and Hermione had to admit after she lay sated and content...

She was one very lucky witch, indeed!


	91. Annoying Family Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, surprises abound as Draco and Hermione make plans for the future.

Her Grandmother had been right when she’d said that it would be all over the press the next morning. Bunny had made breakfast for the family including Severus, who looked absolutely pained at having to be there, breaking bread with Sirius. As she and Draco were the last to arrive—they walked sheepishly into the dining room and all eyes were on them. Draco simply ignored it, as he was so good at doing—Hermione however, blushed deeply as her wizard helped her into her seat like the proper gentleman he was, kissed her cheek before taking his own spot next to her.

Lucius took the opportunity once Draco was settled to hand over that mornings edition of the Daily Prophet.

The first thing Hermione noticed were the pictures of she and Draco, both from inside the ballroom and during her transformation. Skeeter’s words—while technically accurate, were filled with just enough salacious innuendo that Hermione could feel her hackles rising in ire. Luckily, Draco was there to soothe her frazzled nerves as he perused the article and once he was done—placed it down with a disgusted snort.

“Skeeter is a right piece of work.”

“She is,” Lucius agreed before he took a measured sip of his morning cuppa, “but it doesn’t change the fact that by the end of the day, every Wizarding publication worldwide will not only have confirmation of Hermione being a Sorceress, but that you are her ancillary.”

“But it’s been speculated upon for all this past year? Why should this be any different?”

“Dearest,” Muriel’s voice was clipped, “whilst you are technically correct in what you are saying, it is one thing to presume to know something based on traditional speculation and rumor—and quite another to have it confirmed in such a fashion. Perhaps we should’ve sat down for a proper interview at some point but frankly, I don’t believe any of us here could’ve foreseen the order of events that have occurred over this past year. That being said, what’s done is done.”

Hermione’s brow furrowed in thought, but Draco feeling his witch’s confusion, silently spoke to her.

“The blessings of a Sorceress are not to be taken lightly, my love. You’ve seen how the lands of Fosgate Hall and McKinnon Manor have flourished. I would imagine once we return to Malfoy Manor this afternoon, you will be astounded by the changes. You will be courted by many a Ministry in the hopes that you might show them favor with your gifts.”

“Seriously?”

“Oh yes.”

“Oh.”

“Yes, _Oh_ is probably one way to look at it.”

All she could do was bow her head as she considered Draco’s words, although she could feel every single eye on her and she did her very best not to fidget under the weighted gaze of her entire family.

“You okay, Kitten?”

Her head lifted and she made eye contact with her Godfather. She could see the concern held deeply within his gaze.

“I will be.” Her smile was shaky, but then she felt Draco’s magic reach out, soothing and calming her and she returned the sentiment.

His answering smirk was smug.

“What should I do, Grandmother?”

“Well, I would imagine Minister Scrimgeour if he hasn’t yet, will be besieged with requests and if I’m correct, we will be hearing from him in due course. As far as the rest of it goes, Narcissa and I have drafted an engagement announcement which we will send to the Prophet the day before you return to Hogwarts.”

Theo snickered, while Harry just rolled his eyes. Draco however, lifted a condescending eyebrow at everyone as he felt his witch’s consternation elevating.

“While I understand the sentiment,” Draco snarked out haughtily, “I would appreciate it if you all would allow me the courtesy of proposing to my witch properly, before you verbalize plans.”

“Were you planning on getting down on one knee, Malfoy?” Harry grinned impishly, while Hermione glared at her Brother in ire.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Hermione shrieked out in disgust. “Is this a _big joke_ to all of you! Can’t I just have one thing be normal!”

Hermione wrenched out of her chair, not caring that it toppled onto the floor with a resounding thud, as she ran crying from the room.

Draco, who was now officially pissed, glared at everyone in turn before he stood up and said icily, “I understand that this situation between Hermione and myself has been rather _unconventional_, but what I don’t appreciate is anyone making _my_ witch upset. So,” he pointed a finger at each person in turn, “if anyone deigns to bring up this particular subject again before I get the chance to _properly_ propose? I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

“Draco...” his Mother’s voice was admonishing, but Draco shook his head in warning.

“I love you Mother, but I won’t allow even you, to dictate this. This is between Hermione and myself.” He then held his hand out and smirked as the flames erupted into his palm, watching with satisfaction as everyone stared at him stupified speechless.

“Do we have an accord?”

“Well done, young man!” Muriel clapped her hands in glee. “I honestly until this very moment, didn’t think you had the wherewithal to put my Granddaughter first and have the gumption to back it up!”

“Was this a test?” Draco sneered.

“And if it was?” Muriel glared right back. “That girl is all I have in this world. I’ve been denied her presence in my life due to forces so far beyond my control, it’s wonder to me even now—that I have her back and can enjoy what remains of my life making sure she’s taken care of. That her needs are put first.”

“I will always put her needs first, Lady Prewett. Of that you have my solemn magical vow.”

“Then you have my unequivocal and unconditional blessing and the blessing of House Prewett, Scion Malfoy.”

Everyone gasped as the force of Muriel’s words washed over everyone one in the room, and Draco bowed his head in humility. He knew what a concession from Muriel this was. She hadn’t given her consent before because she’d approved of him—she’d done it because of the belief that Draco and Hermione were fated.

And she’d had no other choice.

But to know that he had her wholehearted consent and approval—his heart swelled with pride and gratitude.

Draco then left the room to find his witch.

And find her he did—eventually—out on the grounds near the large yew tree. Her tears broke his heart as he sat down next to her and enveloped her into his warm embrace—inhaling her sweet scent.

“I’m so sorry.” He murmured into her hair.

“Don’t be, it’s not your fault.”

“I’m afraid I wasn’t very kind after you left the room, and I may have threatened our family with bodily harm should they ever make you cry again.”

He could feel her body shaking with mirth, as she hiccoughed on a tiny sob.

“What did my Grandmother say to that?”

Lifting her head, so he could make eye contact—Draco showed her the memory and when it was done—Hermione broke down into heaving guffaws.

“That woman.” She croaked fondly, after catching her breath and Draco just quirked his lips in a half smile.

“She’s determined to make sure you’re take care of.”

“I know and I do love her for it, even if I find her methods a bit brash for my tastes.”

This did cause Draco to snort out a laugh. 

That was the perfect description of Lady Prewett.

Brash and ballsy.

“You and I, tomorrow, are going to spend the day away from our prying family.” Draco said after a moment of silence.

“Oh? And where are we going?”

“That’s a surprise, my love. But trust me when I tell you, you’ll adore it.”

“Promise?”

“With all my heart.” Draco then stood and held out his hand, which his witch took immediately and he pulled her into his embrace and kissed her breathless for several moments before saying, “Now let’s go back inside and get you fed.”

“Okay.”

Walking together, Draco observed the grounds of the McKinnon estate with a critical eye. It truly was a magical place—more so than Malfoy Manor, if he was being honest. He could feel the remnants of its elemental magic, now that he and Hermione were fully bonded.

“This place is something.” He said softly and Hermione hummed in agreement.

“I know. I can feel so much more when I’m here.”

“I can too.” He then stopped them both, and said seriously, “Where do you want to live after we get married?”

“I thought we’d be expected to live at Malfoy Manor?”

“Not necessarily, and I’m thinking that since this place is fairly fortified against intruders? It might behoove us to live here...at least until I can make reasonably certain that the wards at Malfoy Manor weren’t unduly compromised after the Dark Lord returned.”

Hermione noticeably paled. “I didn’t even think of that possibility.”

“Malfoy blood wards are rather strong, but it might require us to reaffirm those wards at some point. Would you be alright with that?”

“I would.”

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Draco. We are bonded and once we’re married, which I think is probably more of a glorified formality at this point? It’s going to be our responsibility to make sure our family is protected. Sirius and Harry will probably stay with Grandmother, as I don’t think Sirius would ever willingly set foot in Grimmauld Place again. At least not until that placed is properly gutted and remodeled. The dark magic there is still fairly palpable.”

“And you don’t think your Grandmother will expect you to stay with her?”

“No,” Hermione admitted, “she will expect us to visit frequently and as you’re aware, give her grandchildren sooner than we’d planned. But, she knows we need a place of our own and I’m okay with it being here. It feels right, doesn’t it?”

“Strangely, it does.”

“Then that’s settled.”

“My Mother and Father won’t be happy.”

“Narcissa will bring Lucius around, especially when our children are born. After what happened yesterday? She’s not going to take any chances with your safety, nor that of our children.” Hermione looked up into endless slate and grimaced in pain, remembering how broken Narcissa had been the day prior. “She was utterly devastated, Draco, when she saw you on lying the ground—unmoving. My heart broke for her. She loves you so much.”

Draco nodded. “I know. I love her just as much but you need to know, love, that you and our children will always come first.”

“I know that, silly wizard. Despite what you show to the rest of the world? I know how deeply you feel and how much you love when you allow yourself to.”

“Only you will ever see that side of me. You do know that, right?”

“What about our children?”

“Well, of course they will, but I suppose it’s a bit different. I know my Father loves me, but he’s always been stern and uncompromising. I want to be different with our children.”

“You will be.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I’ll never allow you to be like your Father. At least not like that.”

“Have you forgiven him yet?”

Hermione sighed heavily. “I’m still working on it.”

“That’s probably more than he deserves, but thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet.”

Walking back into the dining room, the mood was subdued but thankfully no one mentioned the words engagement or anything of the like. The rest of the meal was spent talking about other concerns. As the meal ended and everyone got up to leave, Hermione took the opportunity to take her Defense Professor aside.

“I just wanted to take a moment to thank you for yesterday, Professor.”

“You don’t need to thank me, Miss Prewett. Protecting my godson will always be my first responsibility.”

Hermione smiled and nodded, inwardly smirking at how stern her former Potions Professor was, even when he said something rather sweet.

“And Lord Rowle.”

“I’m afraid I wasn’t able to administer the countercurse in time. He’d lost too much blood, and the Healer’s at St. Mungo’s weren’t able to revive him in time. Mores the pity, I suppose.”

“Indeed.” She did then smirk, while Snape just elevated his eyebrows mockingly.

“Was there anything else you required from me before I return back to Hogwarts?”

“No, Sir. I look forward to seeing you September First.”

“Make sure you come back to school prepared, Miss Prewett. You have a full year of studies ahead, and I don’t need to remind you that I will not tolerate any distractions from either you, nor my godson.”

“Of course.”

The surly man gestured curtly at her before he turned and left, his robes flowing after him with style.

The wizard was such a study in contradictions, it made Hermione’s head spin.

She also had thought it strange that the Prophet hadn’t reported on Lord Rowle’s demise, but perhaps that would come later today.

Finding Draco in the library, she smiled as she watched him moving from shelf to shelf, murmuring to himself as he catalogued the tomes he wished to read. Bunny was following closely behind, making note of which ones Draco seemed to be interested in.

“Bunny,” Draco’s voice was surprisingly kind, “if you could keep this list for me? I will call you if I have need of them during the school year.”

“Of course, Master. Woulds you like to see the smaller library too?”

Draco gazed down in confusion, and then glanced up at his witch—who’s face was also pinched with uncertainty.

“Smaller library?”

“Oh yes!” Bunny squeaked happily, as she led both Draco and Hermione over to the far wall where a blank portrait was located. “Just call for the Lady of the Fay...she can open the smaller room for yous to enter.”

Hermione stood there stunned, but Draco thanked Bunny and told her they would call her later should they require anything.

Once the elf had left, Draco took his witch’s hand and led her over to the empty canvas.

“Go ahead, love.”

Hermione cleared her throat awkwardly and then said, “My Lady of the Fay?”

The witch in question moved into the portrait like smoke, swirling into being and then smiled widely at her descendent. “Ah, Hermione! What can I do for you?”

“I would request to be allowed entrance, My Lady.”

Morgana eyed her and then her bond mate with a knowing gleam in her eye.

“To be allowed entrance, a password is required.”

Hermione blanched, and even Draco seemed stunned as he looked down at his witch and she shrugged, clearly puzzled as to what the password might be. Morgana tilted her head and said airily, “I’m sure you, as my Heir, can take an educated guess as to what I might’ve chosen for such a password, Hermione. Passwords, are usually something no one outside family could reasonably guess, but that being said—I did leave you several clues.”

“Clues?” Draco whispered, but Hermione for the life of her had to wonder what possible clues Morgana might’ve left for her.

Until it hit her suddenly.

“_Yggdrasil_.”

Morgana smiled with pride. “Well done, child!” 

And with a click, the portrait swung open and Hermione moved forward, using her hand to generate one of her blue flames as she walked into the darkness. When Draco was inside the room with her, the walls flashed with magic and the sconces lit up causing both occupants to gasp loudly in awe.

For surrounding them, were books and scrolls that looked to be hundreds and even thousands, of years old.

“Bloody hell!” Draco whispered as he moved over to the shelf on his right, eyeing the titles with disbelief. “Hermione! These books! I’ve never seen many of them!”

Hermione was only half listening as she made her way to the shelf on the left and touched the books with the upmost reverence. There were books on Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology but as she continued to move around the small circular room there were more books on Runes, Blood Magic and Alchemy.

There were a lot of books on Alchemy.

“Draco! Come take a look at these!”

Not needing to be told twice, Draco moved to her side, breath hitching, as he picked up a book on ‘_The Healing Power of Alchemy.’_

“This is astonishing!”

“I know!” Hermione reached for a book on ‘_Alchemy and Elemental Magic.’ _

“There has to be a least several hundred books here alone on Alchemy. There are probably another thousand books in the McKinnon Vault too, on different subjects.”

Draco chuckled deeply at his little witch’s wistful sigh. “I hope you don’t intend on ignoring me in favor of all this knowledge, love?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Draco.”

But he just shook his head as he eyed another tome on ‘_Potions, Alchemy and Oddities.’_

“Severus would love this one.”

Hermione looked at it over Draco’s shoulder and nodded. “You should take that to him. It might even make him smile! Ooh! Can I be there when you give it to him?”

“Love, Severus doesn’t show his emotions like that. He’d never smile, that’s not his way.”

“Then what would be his reaction?”

Draco grinned. “It’s not so much what he’d do, as to what he’d say.”

“Which would be?”

Clearing his throat, Draco spoke in an eerily perfect rendition of his godfather and it made Hermione snort in shock initially...

“_Draco, I must admit I am rather surprised by your thoughtfulness. I simply wouldn’t have expected you to be so introspective, as I rarely have an opportunity to be graced with that side of your personality.”_

Then Hermione fucking lost it! 

She bowled over in rich laughter as tears flowed down her cheeks, and her smile nearly split her face in two.

Draco for his own part, snickered in commiseration of the moment. He rarely did his very accurate impression of his godfather for anyone. Knowing from a self-preservation standpoint, that if it ever got back to Severus, he’d be deader than dead.

“That’s too good.” Hermione giggled, as she wiped away the happy tears from her cheeks.

“I do have my moments.” Draco admitted easily. “Now, let us decide which books we want to take.”

“Sounds good.”

After another twenty minutes, they’d each chosen three books plus the one for Professor Snape, before leaving the room and sealing it shut.

Draco shrunk the books wandlessly, and placed them in his pocket before taking Hermione’s hand in his and leading her out of the library, silently asking her if they wanted to share this boon with the rest of their family.

Her answering shake of the head was a good enough answer for him.


	92. Seventh Year Part One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The start of a new School year begins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So only a handful of chapters left...seventh year is broken up into three parts, then the wedding and the epilogue. Hope you All like it!

September First had arrived quicker than Hermione and Draco had anticipated. 

As expected, a few days after the report by Skeeter and the _Daily Prophet_—Muriel has received an owl from the Minister for Magic—asking to be granted an audience with Hermione Prewett and Draco Malfoy. Owls from all over the globe had flown into Fosgate Hall, so much so—that the Minister had offered to assign two Aurors to oversee the increased correspondence to check for unfriendly magic, as well as gave Percy Weasley the position to be the new Press Secretary for the new Ministry Department of Sorcery and Public Relations.

As promised, Draco had taken Hermione to spend a wonderful day in Italy at Blaise’s family estate in Capri. The sunshine and clear blue waters of the Mediterranean had been the ideal backdrop for Draco’s proposal, which had been beyond intimate and perfect. 

So much so, that both Draco and Hermione had decided not to share the details with anyone!

His Mother had been understandably miffed, but had surprisingly let it go after a few days of pouting only when Draco promised her that she could plan their engagement party for the Christmas Holidays.

Lucius had patted his son on the shoulder with a proud smirk, and let it be.

The grounds at Malfoy Manor had indeed come to life, like never before. The greenhouses alone, had filled Hermione with profound awe—seeing some of the rare plants, herbs and trees. There was a silver rose bush that she’d fallen in love with, and as it hadn’t bloomed in over three centuries, Draco had picked a single blossom for her and kept it looking perfect with an endless preservation charm. The sweet, fragrant bloom was sitting in a crystal vase in Hermione’s room at McKinnon Manor—where it would remain.

When the happy couple had returned from Italy, Muriel had taken one look at the engagement ring on her Granddaughter’s left hand and had smirked knowingly at the Malfoy lad.

The large emerald stone in the center winked at Hermione as she gazed down at it in awe. It was 10 carats, flawless, natural and had two trillion white diamonds flanking it on either side that were two carats each—and were also flawless. The band was goblin gold, and sized down to fit her finger perfectly.

It was a Malfoy family heirloom and had once belonged to Draco’s Great-Grandmother.

And she _loved_ it.

As predicted, they’d both made made Co-Heads and Draco was once again Captain of the Quidditch Team for Slytherin. Harry had made Prefect, and was the Captain for the Gryffindor team. There had been some competitive snarkiness between Ron, Harry, Draco and Theo over the summer. Blaise had even joined in on the fun, when he’d come to visit the last week before school had started. He’d done so to get away from his Mother, who had spent the entire summer lamenting the fact that she had to _somehow_, find a proper token for his future wife and she didn’t understand why she couldn’t just gift the witch a bauble, or a vial of everlasting elixir and call it good.

“My Mother is going to drive me around the bend.” Blaise complained, as he sat down in Draco and Hermione’s compartment with a scowl marring his normally handsome face.

“At least she didn’t offer poison.” Draco drawled with a knowing smirk, causing his best mate to snort in agreement.

“Would she do that?” Hermione wondered out loud and both wizard’s nodded emphatically.

“I told her it needed to be appropriate and thoughtful, and do you know what she said?”

By Draco’s wicked grin, Hermione suspected her wizard had an inkling.

“She said—_Darling, every witch could use a potion or five to make her more irresistible and frankly, your choice of witch does leave something to be desired. Are you sure I can’t give her a little something to make her more—I don’t know? Acceptable?”_

“She didn’t?” Hermione breathed out in horror, but Blaise just nodded and slumped into his seat holding his head in his hands.

“Your Mother is something else, mate.”

“Don’t I know it.” Blaise groaned as if he was in pain. “And the sad part is, I don’t have the heart to tell Daphne. Or at least forewarn her. I’m afraid if I do, and it gets back to her parents—they’ll rescind their approval!”

“Which is what your Mother is probably hoping for.”

“Probably.”

“I’m so sorry, Blaise.”

The wizard in question just shrugged helplessly. “The sadder part is, I’m fairly certain it would be this way with whomever I decided upon.”

“Not true, mate,” Draco sniffed in disgust, “if you’d chosen outside the Sacred 28, I’d imagine your mother would take it upon herself to make sure the witch miraculously disappeared.”

“No!” Hermione squeaked.

“Oh, yes.” Blaise lifted his head, his eyes filled with the stark truth. “My Mother is...”

“_Deadly_.” Both Draco and Blaise spoke simultaneously, while Hermione just gave her wizard’s best friend, a reassuring pat on his knee.

“But enough about my screwed up family,” Blaise deferred expertly, “how are things going at Chez Malfoy? Has your Mother been driving you both spare with wedding preparations?”

“Oddly, no,” Draco replied, “she’s working on the engagement party, which will be held on New Year’s Eve and will be a Masquerade.”

“Nice!” Blaise grinned in approval. “Haven’t had a proper one of those in a while.”

“Are you ready for Quidditch?” Draco leant forward as he changed the subject, and Blaise nodded eagerly.

“Yeah. Love the strategy by the way.” He winked at Hermione.

“Just keep it to yourself, for now. Since I can now apparate through the wards at school, we are going to be holding secret practices back at Malfoy Manor once a month on Hogsmeade weekends. My understanding witch has offered to run interference for me, so on those Sundays for three hours? We can finally plan on how we’re going to beat Gryffindor this year.”

“And if we do?” Blaise asked and Draco scoffed.

“_When_ we do, we are throwing the biggest celebration party in the history of this school.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, but didn’t argue the point.

“As long as you promise Draco, that you’re going to win this fair and square? No using your powers to cheat!”

“Hermione...” Draco lifted her head and gazed directly into her eyes, “I don’t cheat. We play hard that’s true, and brutal when the occasion calls for it, but I want to win this the right way. It will be so much more satisfying when I beat Potter good and proper for once.”

“Fine.”

Blaise just chuckled and shook his head at how ridiculously in love his best mate and witch were.

“Well, I for one am looking forward to this year. Not the NEWTS mind you, but being able to have more freedom.”

“I’m looking forward to NEWTS.” Hermione pouted, earning a kiss on the temple from her wizard and a snort from Blaise.

There was a knock on their door, and when it opened after Draco said, come in—he smirked at Sally, who was standing there smiling at them all.

“Hi, Mr. Draco. Hermione! How was your summer?”

“It was good, Sally.” Hermione waved the young witch in, and she smiled shyly as she sat down next to Blaise.

“Did you read the book I gave you, Mr. Draco?”

“How about you just call me Draco, Sally?”

The young girl blushed, but nodded and Blaise gave his friend a playful wink—as it was obvious the young Muggleborn witch had a crush on him.

Hermione didn’t seem bothered in the least, if her amused expression was anything to go by. 

If Blaise had to guess?

She probably thought it was fucking adorable.

“I did. It was really interesting. How about we get together later this week and we can talk about it?”

“Okay.” The little witch said happily as she stood immediately and waved goodbye, clearly not wanting to overstay her welcome.

“You have a fan.” Blaise quipped, after the witch departed.

“Jealous, mate?”

“Hardly, git. I just think it’s rather cute that Draco Malfoy has a Muggleborn fan club. I must say, mate—you’ve come a long way from the entitled, prejudiced git you used to be.”

“Like you weren’t a git too?” Draco sneered, but Blaise just shrugged.

“I wasn’t as vocal as you were about it though.” He said after a moment and then laughed when Hermione snickered and bit her lip as she tried to keep her own humor under control. But Draco just grabbed her and pulled her into his lap, tickling her which caused her to shriek out in shock.

“Draco Malfoy!” She wheezed through her laughter. “Stop it, this instant!”

“Not a chance, love.”

Blaise groaned in disgust as he stood up and waved them off too.

“I’m leaving! You both are _nauseating_.”

Draco stuck his tongue out and warded the compartment private after Blaise had departed, not wasting a moment to capture his witch’s mouth with his own. They stayed like that for a while until Hermione sighed unhappily as she moved her head back and said, “We have to get ready to meet the prefects soon.”

“Don’t remind me,” Draco groaned out, “I really do hope this year goes by quickly.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t wait to be married to you.”

Hermione’s face morphed into a teary smile, her lower lip quivering with emotion as she whispered with feeling...

“I can’t wait to be married to you, too.”

The rest of the train ride was nearly as expected, the prefect meeting went by quickly with little in the way of drama. Most of the witches present were fawning over Hermione’s engagement ring while Draco just looked on with a smug expression on his pointed face.

When they got to Hogwarts, Draco and Hermione called for the first years, and led them to the boats with Hagrid—smiling to each other at how young and innocent they all appeared.

Most of the Purebloods and some of the Half-bloods looked at Hermione with awe and a bit of fear, while the Muggleborns just seemed to be more interested in taking in the sights of the castle and gaping at Hagrid, as if he was the most interesting thing they’d ever seen.

The Sorting had been fun to watch as well, but it had been the introduction of the new Transfiguration Professor that had both Harry and Hermione gaping like someone had hit them with a ten foot pole.

For walking into the Great Hall in all his self-satisfied glory—was their Godfather.

“I thought he was going back to being an Auror?” Hermione whispered, and Harry nodded in agreement.

“I did too.”

“So why is he _here?”_

Sirius, who could hear his godchildren whispering over the shocked gasps reverberating throughout the Hall, stopped at their table and put a hand on each one of their shoulders. His grey eyes were twinkling like mad, and Ron snickered at the horrified expressions on his two best friends faces. Even Ginny was grinning like a loon.

“Padfoot?” Hermione squeaked.

“Yes, Kitten?”

“Uhm? Not that we’re not thrilled to see you, but what are you doing here?”

“Minnie asked me to teach this year and I thought, why not? It’ll give me a chance to spend more time with the two of you!”

“Lucky us!” Harry offered, with a lopsided grin while Hermione kicked him under the table. When she glanced up at Draco, her wizard looked like he’d swallowed something sour and when Sirius grinned at him in that sharp way of his—Draco paled even more than his normally alabaster color.

“That’s unexpected, eh?” Theo snarked, earning a heated glare from his housemate.

“Shut it, Theo.”

Blaise, Greg and Vince all snickered in solidarity, while Black sauntered up to the dais and kissed McGonagall’s hand in greeting before taking his designated spot next to Snape.

Who was currently glaring at Minerva like he wanted to throttle her with his bare hands.

“Snivellus?”

“_Dog_.”

The Headmistress glowered at them over her shoulder, causing both wizard’s to grimace before she addressed the students once again.

“Welcome to another year at Hogwarts. Before we begin our Start of Term Feast, I’d like to take a moment to introduce our Head Students for this year. Our Head Boy is Draco Malfoy of Slytherin House.”

Surprisingly, cheers erupted from all the houses, and Sirius lifted a curious eyebrow in shock at that, while Snape’s smug smirk was noted by more than one student.

“And our Head Girl this year, is Hermione Prewett of Gryffindor House.”

The loud cheers that greeted Hermione, caused her to blush in embarrassment as her brother and Ron both patted her on the shoulder in pride.

“For the rest of you, please take note that the Forbidden Forest is forbidden to all students and House Points will be deducted for any infractions. This year, the Board of Governors has decided to implement a new program for our students. For all students first through third years, you will be assigned a mentor from the fifth through seventh years depending on your year. A first year will be assigned a fifth year, a second year a sixth year and so forth. These mentors will remain with you for the first three years in most cases. Each mentor will be assigned a student from a different house. I want to stress the importance of cooperation and acceptance. Any form of bullying will not be tolerated and will result in swift disciplinary action up to and including expulsion.”

The entire room went deathly quiet and both Hermione and Draco had to wonder who had implemented this program.

“The Head of the Board of Governors has taken it upon himself to request this program, and has asked that the Head Students and Prefects do what they can to support this program and help with the implementation going forward.”

Draco’s gaze widened in surprise, and even his friends seemed shocked.

His Father had truly done this?

He heard Hermione’s voice ask him silently, “Did you know about this?”

“No, love. I had no clue.”

“Look at Sirius,” Hermione replied, “he looks as if he’s going to be sick.”

Draco snickered, and then swallowed uneasily when steely grey eyes so like his own, fixated solely on him.

He then allowed his smuggest smirk to morph onto his face, and noticed Black’s eyes narrowing at the taunt.

“Stop it, both of you.” Hermione’s voice echoed into Draco’s mind, and he was surprised when he heard Sirius scoff silently...but the older wizard didn’t reply.

Dinner was then served, and the conversation at Slytherin was just as jovial as the rest of the Houses. Summer plans were discussed, and more than one of his classmates asked Draco questions about being an ancillary and what it was like.

He kept the answers fairly innocuous, not really wishing to discuss something so intimate with anyone but his witch, who at the moment—was laughing with Potter and Weasley about something. Her expression was light and carefree, and it caused him to smile adoringly at her.

“You look whipped, mate.” Vince said, as he took a bite of his chicken.

“And?”

“Just statin’ facts. It’s good to see. At least you won’t be scowling and sneering at everyone all year long.”

“Nice, mate.” Draco then lifted an eyebrow at his friend and said innocently, “How’s things going with little Astoria?”

Vince blushed deeply, as he refused to make eye contact with his friend who was grinning at him knowingly.

“Leave Vince be,” Greg’s booming voice interrupted Draco’s moment of triumph, “he’s still trying to work up the courage to ask the witch to Hogsmeade this year.”

“Might want to get a move on that, mate,” Draco tilted his chin down the table where Astoria was sitting with a few of the younger years, including Selwyn—who was eyeing the witch like prey.

“Tosser.” Vince sneered angrily. “Thinks he’s so much better than everyone else.”

“Perhaps you need to show the little prick just what you’re made of, mate. Besides, if you want to impress Astoria? I suggest talking to Daphne. I’m sure she would be willing to give you a few pointers on things her sister might like?”

“That’s not a bad idea. Thanks, mate.”

“Not a problem.”

Once dinner had finished and all the first years were taken to their houses by their prefects, Hermione and Draco were escorted to the Head Dorms by Professor Snape.

“These will be your accommodations for the school year. There are two rooms,” he stared down his nose at his godson, but Draco didn’t react at all. “However, I would mention that you both will be expected to stick to the schedule I’ve set. Mr. Malfoy, your Saturday evenings will be filled with your apprenticeship from after dinner until curfew. Miss Prewett, you will have Sunday mornings from after breakfast until lunchtime. There will be no switching or rescheduling of time. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, Professor.” They both spoke as one, while the older wizard sneered and then turned around and left...leaving them staring after him.

Turning around, Draco snorted when he noticed there wasn’t a portrait over the entrance.

“That’s odd.”

Hermione nodded as she put her hand up against the wall and felt it shimmer before the stones moved much like the ones at the Leaky going into Diagon Alley and she shook her head.

“Well, I suppose that’s one way to create an entrance.”

As they entered, Hermione was surprised at how warm and cozy the room appeared. There was a single couch in front of the fireplace and a door on either side of the room, along with a small kitchenette.

“Shall we check them out?” Draco asked with a playful gleam in his eye and Hermione nodded, grabbing his hand and leading him towards the door on the left that had his name on it. When they walked inside, Draco’s trunk was there and the room unsurprisingly, was done up in green, silver and black. Hermione then pulled him out towards her room, which was the exact same room except for the colors of red and gold.

“How predictable.” Draco deadpanned.

“We should get some rest?” Hermione pouted as she went to push Draco out of her room.

“Hey, witch!” He growled petulantly, “Your barking if you think I’m sleeping alone.”

“Oh really?” Hermione’s voice was deceptively innocent as she tried her best to appear unaffected. “I don’t remember saying I was going to share a room with you. We aren’t married yet.”

“Why you little vixen!” Draco snarled as he lifted her up and stomped over, throwing her onto her bed before he pounced on top of her—kissing and nipping along her neck in warning. “I am not sleeping alone!”

“But, Draco!”

“Enough!” He waved his hand and Hermione gasped when both their clothes vanished instantly. She glared at him but Draco was ogling her bare chest with a lecherous grin.

“You’re incorrigible!”

“I think you meant to use the word insatiable, love. No matter. I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.”

And true to his word...she did.

_A lot._


	93. Seventh Year: Part Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Christmas approaches, Hermione gets an unexpected surprise!

As the last vestiges of Summer fell away, Hermione celebrated her 18th birthday in the Room of Requirement with all her friends. 

Even Sirius had attended, as a self-proclaimed proper chaperone of sorts.

Although supplying Firewhiskey and then drinking said alcohol wasn’t exactly what Hermione thought of when the words ‘_responsible adult_’ swirled through her head, she simply couldn’t deny it was heart-warming to see Sirius embracing life again.

Harry adored having Sirius teaching them, and Hermione had to admit...her godfather was a fairly good Transfiguration Professor. His favorite class was of course NEWT level, and he would often show up to class in his animagus form, just because he could.

Draco, the perfect bond-mate that he was, had spent the night of her birthday after they’d returned to their private sanctuary, worshiping every part of her he could get his greedy hands, mouth and cock onto and into. And not for the first time, Hermione was grateful for the magical pregnancy protection from her Grandmother—because Lord knows, there were too many times to count where they’d gotten so caught up in each other that it would’ve been highly likely that both of them would’ve forgotten the contraceptive spell.

Then Fall moved into Halloween, and Sirius had become sullen and moody. Harry too. So Hermione had gotten permission to take them both into Muggle London to go see a Muggle band she loved called Radiohead. Their song ‘_Karma Police’_ was a personal favorite.

Thankfully, it had done the trick and both Harry and Sirius had returned back to Hogwarts with their spirits lifted, and wide interchangeable smiles on both their faces.

Professor Snape was predictably, caustic as ever.

However, when Draco had given him the book that they’d found in McKinnon Manor, he’d eyed it speculatively, before turning his piercing black stare on both his two apprentices and replied drolly, “I am unsure what has brought this on. However, in times such as these, the proper response would be to offer my much obliged acceptance of the item. I will admit to being curious about this unforeseeable boon, as I wouldn’t have expected such thoughtfulness, _particularly from you, Godson.”_

Hermione had snickered silently into Draco’s mind, while he’d just stood there stoically—giving absolutely nothing away before he drawled...

“Actually, Godfather? Both Hermione and myself, wanted you to have this as a token for all you’re doing for us.”

Snape had lifted a curious eyebrow, then waved them out of his office. But later, when Hermione had queried if he’d thought that Severus had liked the gift, Draco had smile and nodded.

“That was effusive, for Severus. Trust me.”

If Hermione thought she was busy, Draco was even more so. He had managed to once again, beat Harry to Madam Hooch’s office for Quidditch Pitch sign ups and Slytherin had won the first Match of the season against Ravenclaw handily. Draco had caught the snitch in a little over forty minutes, and as such—Hermione had heard Ron and Harry stating that if it came down to a one-on-one winner take all for the snitch at the end of the year?

Slytherin was going down.

Hermione had inwardly smirked at that comment, but had acted her usually bored self with the conversation.

Just before Christmas, Gryffindor had beaten Hufflepuff when Harry had caught the snitch. Ron, Ginny, Demelza and Dean were on the team as the Keeper and Chasers respectively—but the beaters from Gryffindor had graduated the previous year (Jimmy Peakes and Ritchie Coote)—which meant that two new Beaters had to be chosen during tryouts. A fifth and fourth year respectively: Micah Bloom, a half-blood and Ritchie’s younger brother Randall.

Draco of course had Zabini, Vaisey, Urquhart for Chasers; Crabbe and Goyle for Beaters and Harper for Keeper. All were returning, and all were seventh years.

As the time approached for Christmas Hols, Hermione had received several owls from Narcissa about the Engagement Party that she and Muriel were co-hosting together. Her Grandmother had promised to procure her a suitable mask for the event, and when Hermione had told her what she’d wanted—Muriel had replied that it was very appropriate.

Apparently, Draco’s choice of mask was as well.

The afternoon that the Hogwarts Express had dropped them back to Kings Cross, Tonks and Andromeda were with Muriel to escort them back to Fosgate Hall. Hermione had given Draco a kiss goodbye, and had promised him she’d come to visit him at Malfoy Manor the next day.

“I thought it might be fun to spend a bit of time together.” Dora said, as she linked their arms.

“I’m so glad you decided to come over tonight. And you’re going to the engagement ball, right? Is Remus coming too?”

“Oh yes!” Tonks snorted, “Sirius insisted! He guilted Remus into it, by invoking some old Maruader code that only they seem to be privy to.”

“Well, I’m glad. It wouldn’t be the same without Remus there, even though I know he hates these things.”

“I just think he dislikes how others look down on him because of him being a Werewolf.”

Hermione sighed in irritation remembering how Remus had been treated after his condition had been outed the end of her third year.

“I wish I could make it better for him.”

“I know.” Tonks pulled her closer and wrapped her arm around Hermione’s shoulder. “Remus is working on it too. Slowly.”

“Would it help if he had something to do?”

Tonks gave her a curious gaze. “Like?”

Hermione waited until they had floo’d back to Fosgate Hall, before she sat down with Tonks and shared her idea.

“Since gaining my inheritance, I’ve come into possession of a lot of amazing source books that I simply am not going to have time to catalog myself. There are at least 1000 books in the McKinnon Vaults alone that need to be gone through. Gringotts did an initial accounting for me, but I would really prefer someone I know and trust to go through all the tomes. Do you think Remus would be interested?”

Tonks eyes grew wide and her face broke out into a pleased smile. “I think he’d love it. But, what about access? I thought?”

“No, I get it,” Hermione gestured for Dora to follow her upstairs while Andromeda and Muriel went off to see about supper. “I can have the books moved to an auxiliary Malfoy vault once Draco and I are married. Did you know that the Malfoy family has nine vaults? Nine! Who needs that many?”

“Lucius Malfoy?” Dora snickered, and both witches broke down in peals of laughter.

“My Mum once mentioned to me back when I was in school, that the Malfoy Family is probably the wealthiest in all the Wizarding World.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

“You’re not exactly hurting for galleons either, Hermione.” Tonks winked, and Hermione pushed her down on the bed with a grimace.

“Don’t remind me. As much as I appreciate the fact that I’ll never have to worry about money, I was raised to believe in hard work and earning your keep.” Hermione then plopped down on the bed and placed her head on Nymphadora’s shoulder. “Grandmother wants me to start a family right after Draco and I get married.”

“And how do you feel about that?”

Sighing, Hermione shrugged. “Dunno. I mean I do, but I don’t. The feminist part of my personality, the one that grew up in the Muggle World and was taught that you didn’t start a family until you were done with several degrees? That part of me is having a hard time capitulating to the other part of me.”

“Which is?”

“The part that wants to please my Grandmother. That wants to have that memory of her holding her Great-Great-Grandchildren so I can show it to my babies when they’re older and tell them stories of what a firecracker Muriel Prewett was. How strong, capable and resilient she was.”

“Why can’t you have both?” Tonks pulled back and took Hermione’s hands in hers as she moved gingerly to face her friend. “You can still be kick ass Hermione Granger, Brightest Witch of the Age and also be Hermione Prewett. Pureblood Princess who loves her family and wants to make them happy. It’s not about having to choose Hermione, it’s about the fact that you can have it all. Maybe this is a byproduct of the fact that when you came into our world at eleven, I’d imagine you were constantly having people telling you that you couldn’t have this, or that. That you would have to work harder to gain recognition...”

“That I didn’t belong. I was too much of a swot—too bossy, too brash...”

“Sound like someone else you know?”

Hermione smiled and nodded. “My Grandmother.”

“You have the opportunity to change the Wizarding World. From what my Mum has said, based on her letters from Sirius these past few months? You have an exceptionally bright wizard who wants to change the world with you.”

Plopping flat on her back on her bed, Hermione stared at the ceiling deep in thought for a while before she whispered out hesitantly, “Do you think I’ll be a good Mum?”

“Oh sweetie!” Tonks laid down next to her, rubbing her arm soothingly. “You’re going to be the best Mum! Well, maybe second best.”

Turning her head to the side, Hermione’s face scrunched up in confusion before her eyes widened in shock.

And then she shrieked in excitement.

“Are you pregnant?”

Tonks rolled over carefully and grinned, tears coming to her eyes as she nodded. “Yes.”

“Oh my God! That’s amazing!!!”

“I know, right?”

“Are you and Remus getting married?”

Dora’s face fell slightly as she eyed Hermione warily. “Please don’t get mad, but we already did. At the Ministry, last month.”

Hermione crushed Tonks into her arms, as happy tears flowed down her cheeks too. “Why would you think I’d be mad. This is brilliant!”

“Yeah?”

“Of course.”

Tonks sniffled as Hermione conjured a handkerchief so the older witch could wipe her eyes.

“Bloody hormones.”

“How far along are you?”

Tonks waved her wand and the glamour around her stomach dropped, causing Hermione’s eyes to widen in shock, she hadn’t even noticed it.

“Obscure Black family spell. I just hit my 24th week. This little guy is due early April.”

“It’s a boy?”

Dora nodded. “We’re naming him Edward Remus Lupin. But I’ll call him Teddy.”

“Teddy.” Hermione lifted her hand slightly, her first instinct to touch the bump, but thought better of it—that was until Tonks took her hand and placed it over her stomach.

And then Hermione felt the baby move.

“That’s...oh my!”

“I know. Remus at first was horrified. He was convinced that his affliction would somehow affect our son.”

“That’s rubbish!”

“I know that and you know that, but Remus is stubborn. Sirius had to talk him down off the pitch, and I was so afraid there for a while that he was going to...”

“Remus would never do that, Tonks! You and I both know how he beats himself up over his lycanthropy, but at the end of the day he loves you too much. You’re his mate, just like Draco is mine.”

“I know.”

The rest of the evening was spent talking about plans, and as Dora left after dinner, she took Hermione aside one final time.

“Remus and I wanted to ask you to be Teddy’s Godmother.”

Clutching her hands over her heart, Hermione’s eyes filled with tears again.

“Really?”

“Only if you...”

“Yes! Of course I want to! Don’t be silly.”

Gripping each other into a tight embrace, Tonks whispered her thanks into Hermione’s ear. Andromeda did the same as they all said their goodbyes. Once they were gone, Muriel came over and took her Granddaughter’s arm within her own and escorted her back towards the solarium.

“Dora seems happy you accepted.”

“Did you know?”

“Andromeda mentioned it to me a few weeks ago.”

As she sat down, Muriel called for Sabbo to bring them some fresh peppermint tea, which the elf did immediately. As Hermione poured, Muriel watched her Granddaughter with pride as she had finally learned the finer points of the tea service.

“Who’s going to be Godfather?” Hermione asked quietly. “Sirius?”

“Heavens no, child!” Muriel tutted in condescension. “As fond as I am of that wizard, being responsible for an infant child shouldn’t be a task given to Sirius on a good day. No...Andromeda mentioned that Remus was fairly adamant he wanted to ask Harry.”

“Really?” Hermione perked up and smiled in relief. “I think that’s a wonderful choice.”

“As do I.”

Later that evening, as Hermione was getting ready for bed, she heard a soft pop of apparition outside her balcony. Opening up her door, she smiled when she saw Draco standing there in his nightclothes and a bottle of sparkling wine.

“Hey, love. How about some company?”

“I would love some company!”

Waving Draco inside, Hermione followed him over to the bed where he set the bottle down on the side of the bed, before grabbing her and throwing her in a fit of hysteria, onto her duvet.

“Missed you.” He murmured as he kissed along her neck and chest, slowly unbuttoning her silk night shirt so he could gain access to what lay underneath.

“I missed you too.” Her voice was breathy as Draco continued to tease her.

Lifting his head, he took a nipple into his mouth and sucked—and then growled as his little vixen gripped her hands into his hair and pulled.

“Are you planning on staying the night?”

“Mmhmm,” Draco hummed, as he slid her knickers down her thighs. “Silencing charms?”

“Already in place.”

“Brilliant swotty witch.”

Hermione was unable to respond, for at that instant Draco attached his mouth to her core and began to work her into a frenzied, messy ball of quivering need. He was always like this. He’d spend hours teasing mercilessly, until she begged him to let her come. 

If she didn’t know any better?

She would think that Draco Malfoy had some serious control issues.

“Draco!” Her cry was half strangled, as her body was left reeling from the force of her orgasm, as he continued to lick her through it.

But she wasn’t in the mood for extended foreplay tonight.

Tonight she wanted to get right to the main event.

Flipping Draco over with a wave of her hand, Hermione grinned in triumph as she straddled Draco’s body, arching into his touch before taking him in hand and lowering herself onto him completely.

Her loud moan, had him thrusting up immediately.

“This _never_ gets old.” She whimpered and he nodded as he continued to move like a wizard possessed.

“You’re perfect.” He growled deeply as his hands gripped her hips like a vise, never breaking his rhythm.

It didn’t take long for both of them to reach their mutual pinnacles of ecstasy, and as they came together—Hermione threw her head back as she screamed out Draco’s name in sobbing relief. His answering groan of her given name, filled her heart to bursting.

As they lay together in the afters, Hermione kissed Draco’s chest while simultaneously rubbing her hands over his abdomen softly.

“Tonks asked me to be Godmother to she and Remus child.”

Draco gazed down in surprise before rolling over onto his side, his expression clearly disbelieving. “They’re having a baby? When did they get married?”

“Last month. It’s a boy...they’re having a boy.”

Draco nodded, as he considered the information. He knew enough about lycanthropy to know that his cousin’s child would be fine, but that wouldn’t stop some people from treating the child as lesser than.

That was something he’d have to ponder over.

“I’m happy for you, love.”

“Really? Because I just realized I accepted without discussing it with you first.”

Draco rolled his eyes as he pulled his witch into a gentle kiss, reaffirming his devotion for her.

“I told you before, my love—that it’s my job to give you anything and everything your heart desires. Whatever that may be. If this makes you happy, then I’ll support it.”

Hermione smiled tremulously, as her eyes filled once again with happy tears.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t ever need to thank me, love. Just be patient with me and love me. That’s all I’ll ever need.”

Sliding over her wizard’s body, Hermione figured it would be better to show him with actions just how much she loved him.

Because she really did.

_More than anything._


	94. Seventh Year: Part Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Charms Class and a Quidditch Match highlight the remainder of Hermione’s time at Hogwarts.

The New Year’s Eve Ball had been something out of one of Helen Granger’s romance novels. The sweeping gowns, the decorative masks, the luxurious accoutrements, the sumptuous food and the festive mood had come together to make Hermione and Draco’s engagement party the event of the year.

And would probably end up setting the standard for Pureblood engagement parties to years to come.

For the majority of the evening, Hermione and Draco mixed and mingled with friends, family and dignitaries from every Magical Ministry across the globe. Lucius and Narcissa had spared no expense for this night. The cost of the wedding itself, would be borne by the Prewett Matriarch, but Lucius was simply not a wizard to be outdone by _anyone_. 

He schmoozed, negotiated and worked the room for most of the evening with his wife by his side. 

Draco had watched his Father with an amused little smirk and had silently told his witch that this right here—was Lucius Malfoy’s preferred habitat.

The man strutted around like one of his prized peacocks, which was fitting—since his mask was obviously of the pavo variety.

Draco’s mask was as predicted—a Wyvern, and Hermione’s was of course, a Phoenix.

Harry and Theo had decided to wear domino masks that were the exact opposite of each other, which had an infuriated George and Fred scowling at them all night because they had done likewise. For some unknown reason, there was some missing private joke that Hermione wasn’t privy too, but everyone else seemed to know about.

Even Sirius, who had spent the better part of the evening behind his Grim mask, was making fun of his godson and his friends.

When the holidays had ended, and everyone returned to Hogwarts it seemed as if Draco’s wish was coming to fruition as the months sped on by at the speed of Harry’s Firebolt. It wasn’t until late April, during a singular Charms class, that another piece of the puzzle that was the manipulator that was Dumbledore—had finally answered some of Hermione’s questions.

She had talked with Draco about it several times prior, and even had spoken with her Grandmother over Christmas about certain things that still to this day, hadn’t made complete sense at the time.

The unbreakable vow that Dumbledore had made Lucius Malfoy take was probably the biggest question mark that had remained.

Professor Flitwick had unknowingly, provided some long overdue context.

“Today in class, we will be learning about the Unbreakable Vow. As I’m sure some of you are aware, an Unbreakable Vow is a type of binding magical contract cast between two parties, that if broken by either party, will result in imminent death of whoever broke the contract. Because of the seriousness of the vow, a permanent marking around the wrists of the two who take the vow can be seen. The Vow is cast by having two parties facing opposite each other and clasping right hands. A third must hold their wand, standing quite close to the pair holding hands, and place the tip of their wand onto the linked hands, as Bonder. Then, the Bonder will ask a certain number of vows to the party requesting the vow, with the second accepting those terms; it is unknown what happens if the witch or wizard declines. Each time a term is accepted, a thin stream of fire will be emitted from the Bonder's wand, weaving around the hands of the pair taking the vows until it is accepted and sealed.”

“Now it is important to note, that a witch or wizard who is not of legal age—cannot partake in an Unbreakable Vow, nor can they take the position as the Bonder. If any part of the Vow is compromised, either willingly or unwillingly by the individual taking the Vow, it will also result in death. Also if one of the Bondee’s dies? The essence of the bond itself and its intent, remains.”

Hermione raised her hand immediately.

“Professor? What do you mean unwillingly?”

Flitwick stood a little higher on his books as he swished his wand towards his chalkboard where several things were written down.

“Say for instance, a vow is made for protection, Miss Prewett. You’ve vowed to protect Mr. Potter from coming to harm for example. If the Vow is left open ended, and what I mean is—if a specific set of circumstances aren’t denoted properly? Then if Mr. Potter were to be harmed or killed, and you somehow knew of the deed but couldn’t stop it from occurring? The intent of the Vow would likely, make your life forfeit.”

Hermione sat back stunned before she asked shakily, “Is this common knowledge, Professor?”

Flitwick thought about it for a moment, but then replied, “It’s all in the intent of the Vow, Miss Prewett. I suppose one would assume if two people were to enter such a vow? That the terms would be spelled out rather specifically to avoid such a gaping loophole.”

Hermione pondered that particular caveat. From what she’d remembered, Professor Snape had been the Bonder. 

Had Dumbledore somehow known what Snape would do?

Hermione shook her head. That didn’t make any sense.

“One other thing to note, Miss Prewett? Is that by making an Unbreakable Vow, it does give both parties some measure of access to the Family Magic of the other.”

“In what way?”

“No one knows for sure. There have been reports of situations where one of the members of the Vow was able to enter through the home wards of the other, but is this because the wording if the initial Vow allowed it? No one truly knows.”

Hermione glanced over at Harry, who’s expression was clearly vexed.

“Are you thinking what I am?” Hermione asked silently into her brother’s mind.

“Didn’t Draco mention after you’d been rescued, that he’d heard Rowle state that he was to be taken too?”

“Do you think that Dumbledore was planning to have me killed? Draco too?”

“If so? Why spare me? Why didn’t he kill me?”

“Maybe he was planning to have Dolohov come back and do it? But if I was killed, then it’s very likely...”

“Lucius Malfoy’s life would’ve been forfeited.”

“Leaving the Malfoy family with no Heirs.”

Harry nodded slowly, his hands clenching on his lap.

Part of him still wondered how he could’ve revered Dumbledore like he’d had for so many years and not seen the bigger picture. 

You’d think Sirius being unjustly imprisoned for twelve years would’ve been a huge red flag.

“I feel like such a fool.” He whispered from the side of his mouth and noticed his sister grimacing in turn.

“If you’re a fool, then I am too.”

No more was said on that subject until they’d shared their thoughts with their friends later.

Draco just sat back, pulling Hermione tightly into his lap as he scowled out in disgust.

“I always knew Dumbledore was a master manipulator, but this?”

“Do you think Professor Snape had any idea?”

“No, but since we don’t know the actual wording of the Vow?”

“Do you think he’d tell you?” Harry asked and Draco shrugged.

“He can’t.” Hermione said softly. “Flitwick stated that even when one of the parties dies, the intent of the bond remains. So I would assume as the Bonder, Professor Snape would not be able to discuss it ever.”

Nothing more was said on the subject, but it did make Hermione feel uneasy to think that her future Father-in-Law’s life would be forever entangled by her safety and well-being.

As the remainder of the school year headed towards Summer, the last Quidditch match of the season: Gryffindor versus Slytherin, was all anyone could talk about.

Draco had told her the night before the match as they celebrated his birthday, that they had prepared as best they could and win or lose—he’d knew in his heart that he’d done everything within his power to win.

So as the first Saturday in June arose, with the sun streaming through Draco’s window...Hermione rolled over and reached out for her wizard, only to find the bed empty.

Sighing, she got up and went to the loo to get ready before heading out into the Head’s common room, where there was no sign of her wizard.

Silently calling out, she heard his answering drawling voice responding with amusement.

“Good morning, Princess. Did you sleep well?”

“Fine.” A brief pause and then, “Where are you?”

“I’m down at the pitch. Just getting a feel for the weather.”

“Oh?”

“Hmm,” Draco murmured and Hermione could sense he was distracted.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know exactly. Something.”

She felt a tinge of panic well up into her chest, but Draco tamped it down quickly. “I’m fine, love. It may be nothing. But since yesterday my senses have been heightened.”

“In what way?” Hermione inquired curiously. “Do you think it had something to do with your birthday?”

Draco had turned eighteen the day before and he’d been unusually tired for him. Hermione had assumed it had to do with how hard he’d been working himself between Quidditch, school work, Heads Duties and his apprenticeship. 

But now, she was wondering if it was something else.

“Dunno, love. It’s probably my imagination.”

“You really have been working yourself too hard.”

She heard Draco’s laughter shower in her mind, but she just told him to finish up and meet her in the Great Hall for breakfast, which he promised to do.

Entering the Great Hall, there was chattering and excitement in the air, as everyone was talking about the upcoming match.

Which ironically, ended up being the shortest match in the History of Hogwarts.

Because for all the training that he’d made Slytherin do, the minute the snitch had been released?

Draco had zeroed in on it and caught it.

_Took all of 46 seconds._

Hermione had been standing there in the Slytherin stands and had turned briefly to say something to Theo, when the crowd erupted in cheers around her.

“What?”

Staring up into the bright sky, right above the Gryffindor goal posts was her wizard—holding the snitch in his hands like he couldn’t believe it.

Harry, who was more stunned than she’d ever seen him—just gaped up at Draco in shock.

“Holy Shite!”

Hermione’s face broke into a wide smile as Draco flew down to where she was at, jumped off his broom and kissed her breathless, to even the louder cheers of his classmates.

Then he handed her the snitch.

“We won!” He blurted, his own happy grin splitting his normally stoic facade.

“You did!”

Shaking his head as if he still couldn’t wrap his mind around it, he lifted her into his arms and screamed out in victory.

“We won!!”

Hermione threw her head back and laughed with him and when she glanced over at Harry, his expression was resigned...

But amused.

“Love you.” She whispered into his mind and he nodded, mouthing the words back to her.

As promised, the victory celebration was the biggest one Hogwarts had ever seen. Everyone was invited into the Slytherin Common Room for the festivities. Butterbeer, Firewhiskey, all kinds of treats were scattered all over the place. Toasts were given to Draco throughout the evening by his fellow Quidditch teammates and Hermione had to admit—the joy she could feel through her bond with her wizard was fairly heady stuff.

When the party was over, he took her back to their room and shagged her silly all night long.

In the morning, she rolled over and asked him seriously, “How?”

Draco shrugged. “It’s the strangest thing, love. When the snitch was released all my senses just zeroed in on it. I could hear it’s wings flapping and could see it perfectly.”

Sitting up in shock, Hermione accio’d the little snitch that Draco had caught the day before and lifted it up.

“Close your eyes, I want to try something?”

“Okay.”

Draco did as she asked, and then she released it into their room. She watched as the thing fluttered around, her eyes trying to keep up with the speed in which it moved, but it was difficult.

“Can you hear it?” She whispered and Draco nodded.

“Can you tell me where it is?”

He nodded again and then flexed his hand out and in an instant, the snitch was frozen in mid-air, suspended near the rafters in the right corner of the room.

“Amazing!” Hermione breathed out in awe.

“I didn’t cheat, love. You do know that, right?”

“No, I get it. There’s no way you could’ve known, but this is something else.”

“Should we share this with anyone?”

Hermione watched as Draco cracked an eye open and gave her a lopsided grin.

“Naw. I’m thinking it’s really no ones business but our own.”

Draco laughed as he lunged for her and rolled her underneath him, planting a happy kiss on her lips.

“Love you.” He whispered with feeling and Hermione just beamed up at him and winked.

“Back at you, Mr. Hogwarts Quidditch Champion.”

Smirking smugly, Draco replied, “That has a bloody good ring to it.”


	95. Bonded in Marriage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Happy Day Arrives!!!

School had finally ended a fort-nite ago and the last two weeks had been spent on final wedding preparations for the big day. Hermione’s gown had turned out like something out of a Disney fairytale; the sparkling rose quartz gems glittered throughout the bodice of the dress and down through the elaborate six foot train.

The reception dress was a simple ivory off the shoulder silk gown, that clung to her silhouette perfectly—and the rest of the accouterments both under the gown and not, were rather simple. Including the Prewett family tiara that Muriel insisted she wear.

Standing in front of her full-length mirror, Hermione looked this way and that—making sure everything was perfect. Her Grandmother was sitting next to Narcissa as they nodded their combined approval while Dora was busy nursing Teddy. Lavender, Ginny, Luna and Daphne were over on the other side of the bridal suite, fixing each other’s makeup and giving Hermione one last moment alone before the ceremony finally started.

“You nervous, Dearest?” Muriel asked, her sharp blue gaze not missing a thing.

“Excited, Grandmother.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Narcissa interjected, “Draco has been chomping at the bit for today. When Lucius teased him last evening at dinner that we could postpone the wedding if the weather didn’t cooperate, I’m afraid my Dragon didn’t handle that suggestion very well at all.”

Tonks snorted, while Andromeda grinned mischievously.

“What did my nephew do?”

“He turned his Father’s hair pink and when Lucius threatened to disinherit him if he didn’t change it back—Draco told him it would by morning and stormed out of the room.”

Hermione’s body racked in a fit of giggles, while everyone else was stunned silent.

“Uhm, did it go back to what it was before?” Molly, who was putting up Ginny’s hair, asked breathlessly.

“Yes, thankfully.”

“I probably should apologize for that, Narcissa...” Hermione began, wiping the tears from her eyes, “I taught Draco that hex.”

“I did guess that, my Dear. No matter though. All’s well that end’s well.”

“Until Lucius decides to act like a pompous git again.” Andromeda replied straight-faced, except for the wicked twinkle in her grey eyes.

Narcissa smirked, but didn’t reply as a knock sounded at the door. Molly rushed to finish pinning up Ginny’s hair, while Andromeda went to answer it.

When she opened it, Harry and Sirius were standing there.

Taking one look at his sister, Harry visibly choked up.

“Wow!”

“Hey, Harry.” Hermione then smiled at her Godfather, who was gaping at her like a loon. “Padfoot? You okay?”

Shaking his head clear, Sirius face broke out into a wide, happy smile.

“You look breathtaking, Kitten.” Moving over, Sirius pulled something from his dress robes. “Uhm, this is for you. It’s from your Mum.”

The room went quiet again, as Hermione gazed up at her godfather in confusion.

“I don’t understand?”

Clearing his throat, Sirius reached for her hand—which she allowed—and took the spot where Narcissa and Andromeda had been sitting; but were now standing and watching with interest.

Padfoot then placed a small box into Hermione’s hands.

“Your Mum, the day she asked me to take you—gave me this to keep for you. She told me before I left, that it was for your wedding day and if all went as she’d hoped it would, you’d be marrying the wizard your heart and magic had decided upon.”

“Oh!” Hermione swallowed awkwardly as she fiddled with the box, but Harry’s soothing, “Open it, Sister Mine” had Hermione pulling back the lid slowly after a moment.

When she saw what was inside, she gasped and clutched her heart with her left hand as the right held the beautiful gift aloft.

For inside, was a goblin made silver and gold hair pin that had a rendering of a Phoenix and a Wyvern intertwined around each other.

“This is amazing.” She choked out with feeling, wiping a few stray tears away that had somehow escaped from her eyes.

“She and your Dad, once they’d heard the Prophecy had this commissioned. Obviously, they had no idea who the wizard would be, at least not initially. I think your Mum suspected though.”

“How?”

“She asked me once about Narcissa’s son. What his name was, and then she asked me to bring her the birth announcement from the Prophet, which I did eventually. She was fairly quiet for a few days afterwards, and I let it be, but thinking back on it now? I’m pretty sure she’d guessed correctly.”

“And my Father?”

Sirius chuckled. “If Fabian had guessed, I have no doubt he would’ve made his feelings quite known on the subject. He was not a fan of Lucius Malfoy.”

Muriel tutted, but her expression was smug as she nodded in agreement. “Fabian, as traditional as he was, abhorred those whom he felt were filled with their own sense of self-superiority. He was staunchly fair-minded but terribly stubborn and unfailingly brave. But he did have an unforgiving streak too.”

“Sounds a bit like Harry here.” Hermione quipped, noting Harry’s blush and soft embarrassed smile.

“It does indeed.” Sirius agreed, giving his godson a firm pat on the shoulder.

“Would you like me to put it into your hair?” Muriel asked, and Hermione nodded enthusiastically.

“Thank you, Grandmother.”

Lifting the veil, Muriel carefully removed the existing hair clip that was holding back Hermione’s hair and replaced it with the new one, then resettled the veil back to where it belonged.

“I think it’s that time.” She said with more emotion than Hermione had ever heard from her, as she stepped back—her eyes filled with love and pride as both Prewett women stared into the mirror together.

A hundred years past, present and 100 more of the future gazing back at them both.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione took Sirius proffered hand with the words, “Let’s do this!”

A resounding chorus of ‘_Here, Here!’ _echoed in the room as Andromeda took Teddy and headed out with Muriel, Narcissa and Molly—the last witch giving her a swift kiss on her forehead in parting.

Once her bridesmaids left, Harry came over and gave his sister a fierce hug, which she returned with equal fervor.

“I can’t believe you’re marrying the ferret.”

“Harry!”

“I know, I know..” he chuckled as he took a step back, grabbing both her hands and lifting them out as he gave her his own critical once over. “But I still say you’re too good for him and you always will be.”

“Here, Here!” Sirius parroted, causing Harry to snicker while Hermione glared at them both.

“Is this going to be a recurring theme in my marriage? My brother and godfather taking the piss out of my husband every chance they get?”

“Yes!” They both crowed in unison, causing Hermione to snort as she rolled her eyes in feigned disgust.

Choosing not to take that bait, Hermione scooted Harry out of the room as she stood there with Sirius alone.

“Thank you for giving me away, Padfoot.”

“You’re welcome, Kitten. I know that Fabian would’ve given anything to be here for this today but I know he and your Mum are watching. They loved you more than anything in this world. I hope you never forget what they sacrificed for you.”

“I won’t. I wish they were here too, but I’m glad to have you back. Harry is too. We both missed you when we thought you were lost to us.”

Sirius pulled her into a side hug, his body shaking with repressed emotion. 

He was a difficult wizard on a good day, and didn’t like to show his deeper tender feelings but every once in a while, he would surprise her.

“I’m glad too. For no other reason than I finally get the chance to be a real godfather to you, Kitten. As much as I love Harry like a Son, you are a daughter to me. I know I’m not the easiest wizard to deal with, and I’m more of a glorified teenager some days—but you and Harry will always come first with me. You do know that, right?”

Kissing his cheek in gratitude, Hermione said sincerely, “I know it. So does Harry.”

“Good.”

Taking in a deep breath of his own, Sirius nodded and the door opened before them as he escorted her out into the hallway, where her bridesmaids were waiting.

“It’s showtime!” He barked, and Hermione giggled as she followed her entourage down the hallway of Malfoy Manor. The portraits were all watching her avidly, giving their own blessings of encouragement and well wishes. Once they got to the large back glass doors, that stood at least 20 metres high—Hermione took another fortifying breath and nodded.

The doors opened and she could hear the music starting to play. Narcissa had hired a full magical orchestra for the wedding and Draco had hired the Weird Sisters to play at the reception, much to his Mother’s chagrin.

Once Tonks disappeared on the arm of Blaise—Sirius whispered lowly, “You sure?”

“Too late to be asking me that, Padfoot—but yes. I’m more than.”

“Good.”

As they moved down the flight of stairs and into the gardens, _Johann Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major_ started to play, but it wasn’t until she and Sirius rounded the corner to head down the long aisle that the entirety of the 600 wedding guests stood as one. 

She didn’t really care, because her eyes were locked solely onto bright grey one’s that were focused completely on her and her alone.

Draco, had been waiting for this moment for over a year, and yet? 

Nothing in all his fantasies would’ve ever done his little vixen justice. 

She was a _perfect_ vision, as she walked down the aisle on the arm of her Godfather—who’s own countenance was filled with pride as he nodded to a few people here and there.

But the groom and bride only had eyes for each other. Tears were already starting to well in the corners of Hermione’s eyes, while she could tell it was taking every bit of his Occlumency training—for Draco not to break down.

She could feel his excitement as well as the overwhelming love he felt for her burning through their bond.

When she finally reached him, she smiled at Sirius who kissed her forehead proudly and then shook Draco’s hand. To his credit, Draco bowed humbly and returned the concession wholeheartedly.

Then the Minister for Magic came forward, his own expression filled with pride.

“Welcome all, to this most joyous of occasions.” He began, his deep baritone surprisingly strong and sure. “Of all the duties a Minister for Magic is required to fulfill, the one that means the most is being able to join two individuals in the bonds of marriage. This responsibility is one which is not required, but one which at least for me, I consider to be a scared trust.”

He smiled at both Hermione and Draco as he continued...

“Marriage bonds, are one kind of sacred bond that we are blessed to have in the Wizarding World. The bonds of Fidelity, Devotion, Fertility, Protection, Trust and Family are never to be taken lightly but even so? There are rarer bonds of Magic that are known, but seldom seen. Soul bonds would fit into this category, as the last known pair to be soul bonded here in the British Isles were Arcturus Black III and Melania MacMillan.”

Hermione’s eyes widened as she didn’t know this little factoid, but Draco nodded slightly—telling her he was fully aware of this part of his family’s history.

“Today however, we are here to witness the highest order of bonds known to Wizarding kind. A bond a Sorceress has with her Ancillary.”

Draco smirked in pride, while Hermione just silently said, “_smug prat” _into his mind. 

His answering chuckle was to be expected.

“It has been six centuries since a Sorceress has been born. So much was unknown before the joining of Miss Prewett and Mr. Malfoy. Today, they take their final steps in completing their bond and bringing their lives together. As a humble witness to this joyous occasion, I can only say that I have never in all my years, seen two people more fated to be.”

Draco winked while Hermione wiped a single tear that had escaped down her cheek.

“Now, before we get to the bonding, both Hermione and Draco have a few words they’d like to share.”

Minister Scrimgeour nodded to the young couple and Draco squeezed Hermione’s hand letting her know he would like to go first.

“As anyone who knows me can attest to...I’m not one to publicly put my feelings out there for all to see. It’s definitely not the Slytherin way.” There were several chuckles and heads nodding at that. “But, in this singular instance, I can and _will_ make the exception because I believe it’s my responsibility to let everyone know what a lucky wizard I am.”

Hermione giggled, while there were several more voices joining in on the hilarity of her cheeky wizard.

“Hermione, you have to know that you’ve made me the happiest wizard. I don’t think I will ever be able to adequately express how much you mean to me. I know many of my past actions and words haven’t recommended me very well to you and that I was a right git when we were younger...”

Ron’s and Harry coughed words of “_Here, Here!”_ had Hermione glaring at her two best friends over her shoulder.

“But—you make me a _better_ wizard. Not just that love; you make me want to be a better wizard. I have always noticed you, and been jealous of your dizzying intellect and fierce personality. Your strength of character and how good and kindhearted you are. You finally managed to open your heart to me—of all people, which speaks to your endless capacity towards forgiveness. You truly are the best thing that’s ever happened to me and hopefully if we live another hundred years or more, I promise to love you as much then as I do now. To support your dreams and be a good father to our children when that blessed day arrives. I love you, Princess.”

Hermione gasped out a happy, tearful laugh as Draco grinned down into her eyes, before he gently caressed her cheeks with his thumbs—temporarily wiping away her emotional loss of control.

“Draco Malfoy,” she choked out, “if someone had told me back when we were eleven that I’d be standing here pledging myself to you in front of all and sundry, I probably would’ve thought they were _utterly mad.”_

Draco indignantly snorted softly, but his grin belied his true feelings.

“But perhaps, I should’ve known that we were meant to be. Of all the wizard’s in my life, you were the one that constantly challenged me. Challenged my way of thinking, of being. For good or bad, I’ve always noticed you too. However—it wasn’t until I got to see the _real_ you that I realized just how much I was missing out on. You’re devoted to those you love, uncompromising in your beliefs, strong in your intellect and kind when you feel it’s safe to be. You’re the embodiment of your House in many ways...cunning and clever, a self-preservationist when warranted but loyal to a fault to those who are loyal to you. Today, I bind myself in marriage to you, because the truth is? There’s no one else I could ever imagine spending the rest of my life with. Having a family with. Growing old with. I love you with all that I am.”

“Love you too, Princess.”

They both cracked wide smiles simultaneously as they turned back towards the Minister, ignoring the sniffles and coughs of those behind them.

“If you would please exchange rings now?”

Draco nodded and turned back to Blaise, who handed him over the simple goblin gold band. When he placed it on Hermione’s finger it sized down immediately. Hermione then took Draco’s ring from Tonks, who winked at her cousin before handing it over. 

Once Draco’s ring was settled, they both couldn’t stop grinning like fools.

“If I could now have you clasp your right hands together?”

Taking and joining hands, Hermione watched in awe as a swirl of flame left the Minister’s wand and made its way like a lover’s caress around her hand, and then linked with Draco’s.

“Draco Lucius Malfoy? Do you vow to pledge your fidelity, devotion, protection, family and magic to Hermione Marlene Prewett? Do you swear now in front of these witnesses and by the bonds of elemental magic which you share, to be solely for her now and always?”

“I do so vow.”

The cord around their wrists tightened.

“Hermione Marlene Prewett? Do you vow to pledge your fidelity, devotion, protection, family and magic to Draco Lucius Malfoy? Do you swear now in front of these witnesses and by the bonds of elemental magic which you share, to be solely for him now and always?”

“I do so vow.”

The cord pulsated as it tightened further.

The Minister then pointed his wand at the magical cord and said succinctly, “_Sic fiat semper.”_

The cord pulsated one final time, then erupted in a huge shower of golden flames that swirled over the watching crowd, that oohed and aahed in wonder at the display of powerful elemental magic.

Once the magical fireworks disappeared completely, the Minister nodded—infinitely pleased as he spread out his arms wide and said, “Mr. Malfoy, you may now kiss your bride.”

Draco didn’t waste any time pulling his wife into his embrace as he kissed her breathless, to the raucous cheers of all their family and friends. When they finally broke apart breathless, both of them barely registered the Minister for Magic introducing them officially...

“Esteemed witches and wizards, I give you Mister and Missus Draco Malfoy!”

Everyone stood and cheered loudly, clapping for the newly married couple while Narcissa rushed to her son, smothering him in happy kisses—while Lucius looked on as proud as one of his peacocks. Muriel, Harry and Sirius were the first to congratulate Hermione—followed by Tonks, Molly and Arthur. Remus, Andromeda, as well as the rest of the Weasley’s made sure to take their turn in offering their heartfelt congratulations too.

The rest of the day and evening went by in a blur of smiles, dancing and laughter. Hermione shared the first dance with her new husband, then her godfather, brother and best friend in that order. At one point Adrian came over and Draco magnanimously bowed his head in acceptance, as he went to ask his Mother for a dance. But it was as the end of the evening drew near, when the last person she’d ever expected to approach her, had done so.

“Draco.”

“Father?”

“I would ask to take a turn around the room with your wife.”

Draco lifted an eyebrow and silently asked Hermione if it was alright. Surprisingly, she nodded and allowed her father-in-law to claim a dance.

After a few moments, Lucius decided to speak his peace.

“You have made my Son happier than I ever hoped him of being.”

Hermione’s head whipped back, her expression shocked as she stared at the stoic face of Lucius Malfoy. 

But then he chuckled, as he considered her.

“You seem surprised that I would pay you such a compliment.”

Biting her lip, Hermione decided that perhaps brutal honesty was the only way for the two of them to move forward.

“Perhaps it’s because when I look at you, I still see that same wizard who sneered his nose down at me all those years ago in Flourish and Blotts.”

Lucius nodded sadly. “Ah, it was not exactly one of my finer moments.”

“Which part? When you called my adoptive parents ‘_Muggles_’ with so much disdain your voice was practically oozing with it? Or when you placed that cursed diary in Ginny Weasley’s cauldron? Or when you punched Mr. Weasley?”

“To my credit, he did hit me first.”

“Semantics, Lucius.”

The proud wizard cleared his throat awkwardly, wisely not commenting on that truth.

“You have also made my wife happier than I can ever remember her being.”

“Well, Narcissa is easy to learn to love. Perhaps it is because she loves Draco so much.”

Hermione watched in surprise as Lucius face softened slightly as his eyes locked onto someone behind her.

If she had to guess, it was probably his wife.

“Narcissa is an amazing witch. Strong and resilient. She loves Draco with a singular devotion.”

“I know.”

Perhaps it was in the conviction of her tone, but Lucius silver gaze locked onto hers briefly, before he nodded in understanding.

“I believe you do comprehend.” He said quietly, after an awkward beat of silence. “My faults are my own. In many ways, I allowed my own Father to choose for me. It has always been that way within the Malfoy family. There were many things I wish I could’ve chosen differently for Draco, and perhaps that is why I never sought a betrothal for him and refused to allow my Father to do the same. I wanted him to be able to have at least that choice for himself.”

“As long as she was a Pureblood.” Hermione said bitterly, but Lucius just sighed in resignation.

“I won’t lie to you, Hermione, and tell you that I would’ve been fine with my son and Heir marrying anyone whom his Mother and I felt unworthy of him. Yes, it had to do with blood but it also in many ways, had to do with so much more. You have seen quite starkly this past year, what life is like for a child raised in this world. In the Aristocracy. The pressures and expectations are tremendous. My Son, understands this better than most. If it is any consolation to you? I will try and be more open minded when it comes to my grandchildren. I cannot promise you I’m a changed wizard, but I can promise I will try to do better for the sake of my Son.”

Hermione stared at Draco’s Father, her mouth gaping open and after a moment he tsked at her arrogantly, before he took a single finger and closed her mouth.

“Is it such a difficult thing to believe?”

“_Yes_.”

He snorted indignantly, but then cracked a half-grin after a moment. A second later the music stopped and he bowed regally over her hand before escorting her back to Draco—who was watching them both with an interested look on his face.

When Lucius left, Draco silently asked, “Do I want to know what he said?”

Shaking her head in wonder, Hermione could only reply, “I’m not sure. Is the world coming to an end?”

Draco barked out a laugh as he said in amusement, “Not today, my love. Not today.”


	96. Life Moves On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The years move on and lives change and grow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who’ve followed this story and have taken the time to read, review and leave a kudo or two. Your kind words of encouragement are always appreciated. It is hard to believe that I started this story over a year ago! I will be taking a break from writing but will post my Year in the Life story on the dates listed. Eventually I will be back with an Alpha/Omega story I’m outlining...probably end of the summer. Take care and stay safe to you all! Happy Reading!

**One year later**

Summer time had always been both Hermione’s favorite and least favorite time of the year. When she was in primary school, she’d miss the learning environment of school but loved spending her summers with her parents—going to museums, or the zoo, or the beach.

But this year had been an entirely different experience for her as she had finished the first part of her Mastery with Severus in record time, and had only her research on the implementation of anti-animagus wards to complete for her dissertation, and have the distinction of being a Charms Mistress.

But for now, that goal had been put on hold.

Lying in bed at Malfoy Manor—tired and exhausted, Hermione slumped up against her husband as he wiped her sweaty brow for the upteenth time in the past seven hours.

“You’re doing so well, love.” He whispered gently, as he placed another ice chip in her mouth and smirked as she sucked on it with relish.

“How much longer?” Her voice strained, as another contraction rippled through her belly, causing her to purse her mouth tightly as she breathed deeply through her nose—until the pain subsided after about a minute.

“Was that stronger?”

“Fuck, yes! They’re getting closer together too.”

The mediwitch that Narcissa had insisted be brought in during the last month of Hermione’s pregnancy, was helping the Healer getting everything situated for the actual birth itself.

Draco pulled back slightly and rubbed his wife’s back, wincing at her pained whimper as he hit a particularly tender spot.

About a minute later, Hermione tensed up as another contraction came on quicker than the last one, her breathing becoming more labored with each shock that would move through her body. Hermione’s Healer, a lovely witch by the name of Bianca Shipley—waved her wand and nodded pleased.

“You’re dilated to nine, Mrs. Malfoy. The babies heart rates are still looking good.”

Hermione hummed and then cried out when another contraction ripped through her abdomen, causing her buckle in pain.

“Oh _Gods!”_

“It’s going to be okay, love.”

“Easy for you to say, Draco!”

To his credit Draco didn’t reply, he just sent out his magic to soothe his wife’s frayed nerves. When he felt her slump back against him, he wiped her brow again.

This went on for another thirty minutes until the Healer said briskly, “Okay, Mrs. Malfoy—on the next contraction I need you to push.”

Hermione didn’t reply, because at that precise moment the strongest contraction yet slammed into her body, causing her to scream out in pained terror as the urge to push became too strong.

“_Ahhhhh_...” her voice cracked, as she doubled over—straining every part of her body as it bared down in agony.

“It’s okay, my love.” Draco kept whispering over and over again. “You’re doing so well, Princess.”

Three more contractions later, and the shrieking cry of their first born greeting the world caused both Draco and Hermione to gasp in joy.

“Okay, Hermione. You need to concentrate because we have one more to go!”

Nodding in exhaustion, Hermione groaned out before another contraction pulled her right back into a hunched position as she screamed out again, her entire body heaving with fractured sobs.

“I _can’t_...” she pleaded, tears streaming down her face, as Draco wiped her brow again. “_No more..._”

“You can,” Draco’s voice was surprisingly calm. “You are the strongest witch I’ve ever known, wife. You can do this.”

Choking out a sob, Hermione then roared in terror as the final contraction hit and her body folded in half as she pushed harder than before—her relieved shout echoing over her baby’s cries as her second child was born.

“Oh thank, Morgana!”

“Great job, love.”

“Hermione, I just need you to push one more time, alright.”

“Okay.” Her voice was completely hoarse.

Draco watched his amazing wife as she did as directed, and once the afterbirth was delivered, the Healer waved her wand and with a series of spells, Hermione was put back to rights.

Then their Mediwitch brought over their first born, as the Healer busied herself cleaning and taking vitals on the second one.

When her eldest son was placed into her arms, Hermione sniffled loudly as she pulled down the blanket slightly to take in little Scorpius face, hands and soft downy hair.

Which was the exact same color as Draco’s.

“Perfect.” Draco whispered reverently, as he kissed her temple in gratitude. “You were amazing, love.”

“Thank you for staying with me.”

“Where else would I be? My place is _always_ with you.”

A moment later, the Healer brought over their second son, and handed him to his Mother, while Draco shifted slightly so he could hold Scorpius.

“Leo Fabian.” Hermione sighed, placing a soft kiss on her son’s forehead.

“They’re identical twins.” Healer Shipley smiled widely.

“Salazar!” Draco said in wonder. “I knew we were having twins, but there has never been identical twins in the Malfoy line in 1000 years. Father and Mother will be thrilled!”

“You do know that our entire family is outside, waiting to see these little ones.”

“I know.” Draco drawled out, his facial expression less than pleased. “Is it wrong of me to want to keep them to ourselves for a while?”

“Do you want to explain to my Grandmother why she can’t come in and see her grandsons? Because unless you’re feeling inordinately lucky today, you might want to rethink that strategy.”

“I do still have that Liquid Luck, you know. I could...”

“Don’t!” Hermione bit back, before she yawned out in utter exhaustion. “How about we bring in your parents, my Grandmother, Sirius and Harry now.”

“Potter, really?”

Hermione glared over her shoulder and Draco realized this was one argument he wasn’t going to win, so he moved gingerly from behind his wife and settled Scorpius into the crook of her other arm, before moving out towards the hallway where their family was patiently waiting.

When he opened the door, he was besieged!

“Draco!” His Mother was the first to reach him. “How is Hermione? And the babies?”

Taking his Mother’s hands within his own, Draco felt guilty for even thinking about making his Mum wait to meet her grandchildren.

“They’re all doing well.” He kissed his Mother on the cheek. “We have identical twin boys.”

Narcissa clamped both hands over her mouth while Lucius just stood there still as a statue. 

Muriel however, _looked smug as fuck._

“Don’t keep us in suspense, young man! Let me see my Great-great grandchildren!”

Draco watched in bemusement as Lady Prewett made her way through the door, followed by Narcissa and Lucius. He then turned to Sirius and Harry and said magnanimously, “Hermione would like you both to come in too, if you want to?”

Sirius clapped his shoulder and said simply, “Let Kitten have some time alone with Muriel and your parents. We will be here when she’s ready.”

“Thank you.” Draco nodded before heading back inside, to get back to his family.

As he walked through the door, his eyes immediately went to his parents, who were sitting side by side on the loveseat, as his Mother held Scorpius in her arms, tears streaming down her cheeks while his Father, cupped his grandson’s head and murmured a few words that Draco suspected were an old Malfoy blessing.

His gaze then settled on Muriel Prewett, who was sitting at the edge of Hermione’s bed with Leo in her arms, and Draco stopped short as he immediately noticed that Muriel Prewett was smiling genuinely.

He shivered as he was fairly certain he’d never seen that particular display of emotion on her face.

_She was genuinely smiling._

“Are you going to stand there and stare all day, young man?” Muriel snarked softly as her blue eyes assessed Leo with such intensity, it made Draco feel a tad wary.

“I’m just not used to seeing you look so happy, Grandmother.” Draco replied cheekily, earning a caustic stare for his troubles.

“You both behave.” Hermione admonished sleepily. “I need to feed these little ones before I drop dead in a coma of sleep.”

Standing up, Narcissa came over with Scorpius and helped situate her daughter-in-law more comfortably, as she gave her a few pointers on how to nurse.

Scorpius however, was a natural and latched on right away sucking hungrily as Draco grinned in satisfaction.

“Leave it to my son to get right at it.”

“Draco Lucius Malfoy!” His Mother whisper-admonished, while his Father just smacked him behind the head.

“Thank you, Lucius.” Hermione winked while Draco just muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

When it was Leo’s turn to feed, the little guy seemed more interested in staring up at his Mum while he nursed, but soon his eyelids drooped heavily and he fell back asleep.

The Mediwitch came over and cleaned Hermione up a bit, as Muriel held Scorpius and Narcissa took Leo.

“I still can’t believe it!” Draco’s mother sighed happily. “Twin boys!”

“Well, they do run in the Prewett family dear. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Grandmother!”

“What?” Muriel rebuffed softly, “It’s the truth. Why shouldn’t I take credit?”

“I did give birth to them.” Hermione pointed out helpfully, but her Grandmother just waved her hand in faux irritation.

“I suppose we need to share these perfect ones with the rest of the family at some point.”

“Well, if you all don’t mind?” Hermione yawned deeply, as she snuggled down into her pillow, her eyes already dropping shut. “I’m going to take a nap.”

“Sleep, love.” Draco purred out soothingly as he pulled up the blankets and tucked her in.

“You’ll wake me when they need to feed again?”

“Of course, dear.” Narcissa huffed, as she bent down and kissed Hermione’s forehead. “We will be right here.”

“Okay.”

And within a minute, Hermione appeared as if she was out like a light.

Muriel moved over and placed a kiss on her Granddaughter’s forehead, before checking her grandson over one more time. With a pleased nod, she followed Narcissa out into the hallway where the rest of the family was waiting.

Draco however, waited until they were gone before he placed the softest of kisses on his wife’s lips. 

As he made his way out into the hallway, he heard her sweet voice say, “I love you, Draco.”

He turned around and noticed Hermione’s eyes watching him, and he winked and said, “I love you, Princess. Thank you.”

“You never have to thank me, love. Just make sure Fred and George don’t try and abscond with our sons.”

“Will do. Get some rest.”

He watched for a few moments until his wife’s soft snores were heard through the room and his heart filled to bursting. It still amazed him everyday that Hermione’s magic had chosen him to be her mate. Of all the things he’d done in his life, having his wife love him was the greatest of them and probably always would be.

_ **Years later...** _

In the years that followed Hermione and Draco had another child, a daughter Lyra who was the apple of both her Father and Grandfather’s eye. Lucius simply adored the little girl and she could often be found in her Grandfather’s study, sitting on his lap while he read to her.

Sirius or Padfoot, as he was known by his god-grandchildren...was the fun parental figure. Always eager to play or get into a bit of mischief, which drove Hermione spare on more than one occasion. Thankfully, when Harry married Katie Bell three years later, and had two children of his own—James Sirius Potter and Lily Luna Potter—he had to deal with their godfather’s lack of adult decorum.

Theo and Luna eventually married and had two children, Thaddeus and Thea Nott and Thoros was thrilled to have his own grandchildren to spoil. Theo had been surprised how much his Father mellowed over the years and gave all the credit to Hermione for giving them back some semblance of a proper family again.

Ron went off to Romania to work with Charlie. He enjoyed playing the field and hadn’t settled down with anyone, much to Molly’s consternation.

Sirius eventually took the Transfiguration position permanently and dated Amelia Bones off and on for several years.

Remus worked for Hermione, cataloging her collection of books while Tonks continued to work as an Auror. They eventually gave Teddy a little sister, Mina.

Severus, after helping Draco and Hermione finish their masteries, decided to return back to teaching Potions when Professor Slughorn retired again. He was currently dating the new Defense Professor, Everly Eggert who had graduated from Hogwarts ten years prior and had worked as an Auror for six years before taking the teaching position.

Blaise and Daphne eventually married, but only after Elora had capitulated and gave her son and his paramour the family home in Capri as a gift. Daphne has been thrilled, and loved to spend time there wherever they could.

Blaise had taken a Ministry job in the Department of International Magical Cooperation as the undersecretary to the Department Head. It had only take him two years to get promoted to the Deputy position and Draco figured at this rate, he’d be Department Head within another five.

Their plans for taking over the Wizengamot had picked up steam when Adrian had finished his solicitor training and had agreed to help Hermione and Draco change any outdated laws that they felt need to be modifed. He was fast becoming a Political darling in the press, and was courting Fleur Delacour’s younger sister, Gabrielle.

Olivia Shardlow, had left Britain for America with her Mother when she got off probation three years early. Therese Rowle, however, had never been the same witch after learning of the death of her Father, and had attacked another prisoner inside Azkaban, killing the witch when she’d slit her throat. Therese had been given the dementors kiss and the witch she’d killed—Pansy Parkinson...well, no one had mourned that loss too much.

Two years, two months and six days after the birth of Lyra Muriel McKinnon-Malfoy; Muriel Prewett was laid to rest in the family crypt at Fosgate Hall with her family surrounding her final resting place to honor her memory.

Draco held his wife, as she cried for the loss of another member of her family and his heart broke for her. 

While they had known this day was coming, it was never any easier to say goodbye.

“She was happy at the end.” Draco pleaded silently, as his wife sniffed into his dress robes.

“I know, I just wish I’d had more time is all.”

“You gave her the one thing she wanted more than anything in this world. To see the Prewett line live on through our son.”

“Leo adored her.”

“And she adored him.”

Truth be told Muriel loved all her great-grandchildren, but she held a special place in her heart for little Leo Fabian, who would definitely be sorted into Gryffindor when the time came.

“Do you think she knew?”

“Knew what, love?”

“That we’d find our way here?”

“I think Muriel Prewett was as smart and cunning as they come and what she didn’t know, she maneuvered to her liking as best as she could.”

Hermione giggled on a sob, as she nodded emphatically. 

Because it was true!

Her Grandmother was the most cunning person she’d ever known and probably would ever know—for the rest of her days.

“You know? The ones who love us never really leave us.”

Hermione tilted up her face and gave her husband a wan smile. “You’re quoting Padfoot now?”

“Eh,” Draco smirked, “he’s not a bad guy, once you get to know him.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him that, next time he asks.”

“You do that, love, but if you tell Potter I think he’s an alright chap? I just might have to punish you for it.”

“Promises, promises.”

Draco pulled her into his embrace fully as he planted a gentle kiss on his wife’s lips. As they walked out of the family crypt where they’d been left alone in peace to say their goodbye’s, Draco smiled adoringly at his lovely bride and said seriously, “You and I both know, Princess, that I always make good on my promises.”

“I know you do, and I love you for it.”

“I love you too.”

_Fin...._


End file.
